In the Blood
by alegnax
Summary: Back by popular demand: more Rollisi. Read my other three stories to get up to speed on their saga!
1. Chapter 1

_could I change it if I wanted / can I rise above the flood? / will it wash out in the water / or is it always in the blood?_

* * *

Amanda's sneakers kicked up sand. Skin sticky with salt and sweat, she filled her lungs with ocean air as she ran down the Wailea beach path. It was eight o'clock in the morning in Maui and the sun was shining bright above her. She and Sonny had been in Hawaii for a week and all the days had blissfully blurred together. Even so, she was still sadly aware that they only had two nights left.

Three and a half miles completed, she skidded to a halt outside of the now-familiar Four Seasons lobby. Hands on her hips, she paced around, trying to catch her breath. Perspiration shone against newly tanned skin, sticking her white tank top to the neon yellow sports bra beneath it. Running in Hawaii was different than New York City: the air in paradise was thick and humid. As her heart rate slowed, Amanda scraped her nails through her hair to re-do the ponytail she originally put it in. She felt warm, limber and happy.

Inside the lobby, all the staff was smiling, as if they were genuinely pleased to see her. Amanda was certainly happy to see them: it meant she was still on her honeymoon. The air conditioning felt heavenly as she waited for the elevator to bring her up to the seventh floor.

Their suite was a contained disaster: clothes and towels everywhere, the bed sheets tangled, glasses and bottles strewn on all available surfaces. Amanda made a mental note to leave the housekeeping staff a big tip, because they had faithfully cleaned up their mess for the past six days. Toeing off her sneakers and socks, she looked around: Sonny wasn't in bed, but the doors to the private lanai were open. She moved through the room on bare feet until she saw him, long limbs stretched out on the day bed in swim trunks and a white t-shirt, reading the newspaper. She smiled; she was convinced that Sonny Carisi alone was keeping the print industry in business.

"Hi," Amanda said, walking out to him on the balcony.

He looked over the top of his newspaper. "Hey."

She leaned over to kiss him before setting a knee on either side of him, then purposefully flattening her body atop of his, knowing that how sweaty she was would freak him out.

"Oh, God, you're disgusting!" Sonny yelped, wriggling in his spot, newspaper falling to the side.

Amanda let out an evil-sounding cackle as she sat back on her haunches, straddling him. "Is that a nice way to describe your wife?"

He grinned through his distaste. "When she smells, yeah."

She rolled her eyes and pulled her damp tank top off of her, casting it carelessly aside. Just in her sports bra, the mild ocean breeze felt nice against her exposed skin. "We should move here."

He settled warm palms atop her thighs. "And do what?"

"What we usually do." Amanda shrugged.

"Like... a Hawaii 5-0 thing?" He quirked an amused eyebrow.

"Yeah, sure. There's gotta be sex crimes here. Scum knows no bounds."

Smiling, Sonny shook his head. "You'd miss the city."

"I would not."

He chuckled. "You start sweatin' when we spend too much time in Staten Island, let alone in the middle of no where on an island."

"That's because of your family and the abnormal church-to-house ratio in your neighborhood, not the suburbs," Amanda explained dryly.

"I bet you can't get twenty-four hour take-out here."

"I don't need take out. You feed me."

"You'd have to buy a car."

"I like driving."

Sonny raised an eyebrow. "You gettin' domestic on me, Carisi?"

She grinned then shook her head, letting her smile falter a little. "No... I just, I don't know. I don't really want to move to Hawaii. It's too far away. It's just made me think."

"About?" he prompted her curiously.

"Just... where we live, and stuff," Amanda answered him vaguely with a wave of her hand.

Sonny gave her a pointed look, like he knew better. "I know you want a house."

"Sorta, yeah." Her response was non-committal even though Sonny had easily identified what was going on in her head.

Sometimes she really hated when he did that.

"You know we can't stay with NYPD if we live outside of the city," he reminded her.

"I know."

"You got a few million stashed away?"

Amanda snorted. "You and I both know that if I did, it would be gone already."

Sometimes Amanda had fleeting thoughts about gambling. She never mentioned them to anybody because they always passed, inevitably lost in the sea of all the other things that need her attention - her job, her family. Even so, the concept resurfaced on occasion: if she could just hit it big once or twice, they could afford a pretty three-bedroom brownstone by Central Park. For Amanda, gambling never used to be about buying stuff, but money was money. This time she could win and get something she wanted. Then she could stop, then she would walk away.

But Amanda knew better.

If she gambled just one more time, she would gamble a hundred more. _Once was too many, a thousand was never enough._

The risk far outweighed the reward.

Shaking her head, the thoughts dissipated. She leaned down to kiss Sonny. "Let's go for a hike. I wanna see the Falls."

* * *

Muddy and tired, they reached Wailua Falls. Eighty feet tall, water rushed from the rocky side of a cliff into a large pool. When she saw it, Amanda immediately missed Frannie: she would have loved the chance to splash around.

She peered down from the ledge they were standing on. You weren't allowed to climb to the very top and jump, but you could from the lower tiers. Amanda stripped off her tank top and shorts, revealing a teal bikini. "Do you think it's cold?"

Sonny adjusted the lens on his camera. "Nah."

"Should I just jump in?" Amanda asked.

"Maybe you should try to-"

Too late. It was the perfect metaphor for their relationship: Sonny talked, Amanda acted. Body arcing in the air, she hit the water hands, then head, first. It was cool, not freezing, and the momentum of her dive sent Amanda deeper and deeper into the blue-green oasis. She reached the bottom before her lungs ached for air, then she propelled herself to the top again, head breaking through the surface.

"Come in!" she called up to Sonny breathlessly, smiling and treading water.

Lowering his camera, he looked down at her with a grin. Stripping off his t-shirt and kicking off his shoes, he dove in after her. Amanda craned her head to try to see his movements underwater, but he was hidden by the depth of his dive. When she felt the sudden slide of his hand on her ass, she yelped just as Sonny surfaced wearing a proud smirk. Laughing, she gave his shoulder a shove.

Sonny gave a quick flip of his head backward, sending his mass of sopping hair out of his eyes. "C'mon. I'll race you to the waterfall."

The sentence was barely out of his mouth before he was swimming away. Fiercely competitive, Amanda launched herself through the water after him as if her life depended on it, arms and legs splashing in a passionate effort to keep up. She was no match for his long limbs and head start: Sonny reached the falls only seconds before she did.

"That wasn't fair!" she sputtered, out of breath.

"What? No way," Sonny laughed, using his arm to send a playful sheet of water her way. "Don't be a sore loser."

Amanda scowled, but it was hard to dwell on her annoyance in that environment. The waterfall had created a curtain between them and the rest of the pool they had just swam across, everything misty and humid. Birds chirped, bugs buzzed, trees swayed in the warm wind.

Beneath the water, Amanda wrapped her legs loosely around Sonny's waist and draped her arms around his neck. His hands slid down the sides of her thighs in response, settling against her back. Weightless, she tilted her head to kiss him, murmuring, "I love you, even if you're a dirty cheater."

"Love you, too." She felt Sonny smile against her mouth.

Amanda pulled away slightly and looked at him: his hair was stuck to his forehead, there was stubble forming on his jaw and his eyes were the bluest she had ever seen them, brought out by the color of the tropical water. Lately, she studied Sonny like he was a gift that she had always wanted but never dared to hope for.

In that moment, Amanda practically radiated contentment.

* * *

Their last night in Hawaii, they were drunk.

The combination of sun, sea and alcohol was intoxicating. Amanda wanted to feel that buzzed and light forever - she was used to things being so damn heavy constantly. She couldn't remember the last time she had taken a vacation, put any distance between her and SVU... probably Costa Rica several years ago, which was more like a hideout in the wake of her gambling disaster than a relaxing trip.

At one in the morning, they stumbled through the hotel lobby. They weren't the only ones: other guests milled around pink and happy, still holding onto drinks and one another. Amanda hung on Sonny's arm, partly because the wedged heels she was wearing were threatening her already-tenuous balance, partly because he was her husband and she loved him and if she could've taken a bite out of him right then and there, she would have.

In the elevator, Sonny leaned back against the wall and Amanda leaned back against him. His hands found her hips, his mouth grazed her hair, and her eyes fluttered closed. When she opened them again, they weren't alone: a young woman stood in the opposite corner, stealing furtive glances in their direction. Their gazes met and Amanda smiled smugly, because for once she wasn't the one envious. Her life was good; her love was something to be admired.

Alone in the hallway outside of their room, Sonny kissed her. It was sloppy, heated, the kind of kiss that was very obviously a gateway to more. She only tore her mouth from his to get them inside of their suite; the happiest sound in the world was the mechanical 'click' of the door when Amanda slid the electronic key into the lock.

The door closed and he was on her again, hands wandering, trying to get her out of her dress. She would have let him continue, but she had other plans. Pushing at Sonny's chest, Amanda broke their kiss. "Sit down."

His heavy-lidded eyes blinked at her, confused. "Wha?"

" _Sit down_ ," Amanda repeated slowly. "And close your eyes."

Looking something between intrigued and skeptical, he sat obediently on the edge of the bed. "Why?"

"No, no, I'm not taking questions, sorry," Amanda babbled, giggling as she nearly fell over trying to climb out of her heels. "Just close 'em."

"Okay... they're closed," Sonny promised her.

She snatched something out of her overflowing suitcase and disappeared into the bathroom, not bothering to shut the door.

"Where'd you go?" she heard him ask.

"Hey! How'd you know I left if your eyes are closed?" Amanda demanded, voice echoing against the tall ceilings and marble.

"Oh, right. Sorry," Sonny replied sheepishly.

She pulled off the maxi dress she was wearing and tossed it carelessly to the side. It was a challenging thing, getting into delicate lingerie when your motor skills were saturated with rum. Especially the kind she had purchased and secretly brought along: a black stretch lace body suit from Agent Provocateur. The plunging cups were darted with wire and trimmed with scalloped edges. Black seams ran down the body and across the waist and risqué, narrow elastics criss-crossed below the neckline. The back dipped down in a deep 'v' and was topped with further strapping. It was totally impractical, way too expensive, and the second she saw it at the store, Amanda had to have it.

Dressed (if you could call it that), she looked at herself in the mirror. Her hands purposefully ruffled her hair, which was wavy from the salt water, trying to give it more volume. Eyeing her reflection, Amanda felt like she was watching somebody else; this was hardly her normal attire. Despite how strange it was, she felt confident, excited. Black lace did that to a person - especially a drunk one.

Amanda peeked around the doorway. "Are they closed?"

"Yes!" Sonny insisted, eyes shut obediently.

"If they aren't I will never forgive you," Amanda declared dramatically.

Satisfied with his compliance, she walked back out into their room. Approaching him, she instructed, "keep them closed..." as she parted her legs and straddled his lap. He kept his hands up like he wasn't sure if he was allowed to touch her, either. "Okay, open them."

He did so almost immediately, pupils dilating wide at the sight of her. His gaze flitted over her body, lingering on all of the places the lingerie accentuated. His palms slid up her bare thighs before they splayed over the lace that was pulled tight over her ribcage. "Wow," he breathed. "You look amazing."

She kissed the side of his face. It would have almost been cute and innocent except that in this getup, it was just coy. Shifting a little bit, Amanda moved underneath his hands to make it easier for him to touch her, almost purring, "y'like it?"

"Are you kiddin' me?" he chuckled quietly, shaking his head in disbelief. The hands against her torso slid downward to possessively grip her ass, pulling her closer. "I love it."

"You gonna show me just how much?" Amanda murmured seductively in his ear, a finger trailing down the center of his chest.

He answered her question wordlessly but confidently: in one, swift movement, he practically tossed her onto her back on the mattress, hovering over her as he pulled off his t-shirt. Breathless, she was stretched out beneath him, all liquid limbs and lace, heart pounding like it was the very first time he had ever touched her.

Of course it wasn't. Hardly. It was the millionth, but it didn't matter. Amanda never knew it was possible to be so consistently enamored with one human being, but Sonny showed her how, over and over. She hoped that he would never stop.

* * *

They walked back into the SVU squad room together like they were coworkers who had merely been on the same elevator, not husband and wife.

Coffee in hand, Amanda looked a little more tan and a little less tired than usual. They had only arrived back in New York yesterday afternoon. As much as she had loved Hawaii, she had been thrilled to see Jesse, Luca and Frannie, all of whom were more than adequately taken care of by Sonny's parents.

"Carisi," Liv greeted Sonny brightly, then added to Amanda, "and... Carisi, glad to see you back."

"I'm still Rollins," Amanda insisted, because she was, at least at work.

"Good, that was going to get confusing," Liv remarked.

"Elsa, you look tan," Fin quipped from his chair. A witness had called her that once and he never let it go.

Raising both eyebrows, she dropped her purse on top of her desk as she shook her leather jacket off of her shoulders. "Miss me?"

"A little," her partner admitted.

"You miss me?" Sonny asked eagerly.

Fin rolled his eyes. "No."

Liv stood in front of all of them like a teacher waiting for her students to settle down. "Alright, now that we're all back, first order of business: Rollins, I need your help."

"Oh?" Amanda opened up her laptop.

"I need you to set up a fake ad as a prostitute and post it on Backpage," Liv explained.

"Just another day at the office," Amanda murmured sarcastically.

Liv smirked. "There's a Super 8 hotel in the Bronx that has been getting a lot of action lately. It's scaring real paying customers away. Between Narcotics and SVU, we're hoping to do a sting there. Narcotics is going to take care of the other girls working out of there, while we'll focus on the johns." She fiddled with her eyeglasses. "I would have done it before you got back but..."

"But I make a good prostitute?" Amanda finished her sentence jokingly.

"Something like that, yeah," the lieutenant agreed with a grin.

"How come VICE isn't on this?" Sonny asked curiously.

Liv shrugged. "No idea, but as of now this is a Narcotics-SVU sting and I'm not going to make waves. I try to limit my interactions with Murphy."

Nobody said anything and it was awkward.

Amanda logged on to her computer, eyes on the screen, keenly aware of the uncomfortable shift in the conversation. "I'm on it, Lieutenant," she assured Liv with a tight-lipped smile.

* * *

Jesse would not stop talking.

"Can I have chicken nuggets?" the little girl asked her fiftieth question of the night.

Amanda sat by Luca's highchair, unscrewing a jar of baby food. "No."

"Please?" Jesse pleaded.

" _No._ "

"Nana let me have them."

"Dad's makin' dinner."

"Why don't _you_ make dinner?"

"Because I'm bad at it."

"Ella's mom-"

"Jesse. Go put your toys away, please." _And shut the hell up for just five minutes_ , she wanted to add, but of course she never would. She felt guilty when she got annoyed with either of her kids, but she was only human - and often exhausted - so it happened.

"Yeah, 'Manda, why _don't_ you make dinner?" Sonny asked with faux curiosity from his place by the stove.

She gave Sonny her iciest glare over her shoulder before returning to the hungry six-month-old. She filled a little plastic spoon with pureed sweet potato and used it to nudge open Luca's mouth. His eyes got big - lately when he ate something he liked, he looked practically elated, which was a definite indication that he was a Carisi.

"That's good, huh?" Amanda chirped approvingly. "And mama doesn't even have to cook it."

Her phone buzzed on the table. Scooping up some more baby food, she looked over at the screen: Declan was calling. Amanda rolled her eyes. She knew why he wanted to talk to her: now that their honeymoon was over and they were back to their regular routine, he wanted to see Jesse.

She declined his call.

* * *

"You're a popular prostitute," Fin observed over her shoulder.

"Aw, shucks, Fin. Thank you," Amanda simpered sarcastically, phone in her hand and feet on her desk. "I've got a lot of dates tomorrow night."

"What kinda scum you reel in?" he asked curiously.

"Oh, you know, just a buncha run-of-the-mill charmers..." She stopped suddenly, eyes on her latest message. "Holy shit."

"What?"

Amanda sat up straighter and pointed at the photo on her screen. "This guy. This guy... it's Bishop Livingston."

Sonny perked up at his desk. "He's the one who did the public blessing for Mayor de Blasio when he got elected. What about him?"

"He's seeking my services," Amanda told him, tone deadpan.

That got Sonny's attention. He stood up and joined Fin over her shoulder. "What?"

"Look," she prompted him, holding up her phone. "He just sent me his cell phone number and offered me two hundred bucks."

"You gotta be kiddin' me," Sonny breathed, sounding genuinely surprised.

"I don't know why you're always so shocked about this stuff," Amanda remarked crassly.

"Easy, Rollins," Fin warned her, looking amused. "You can take the boy outta the church, but you can't take the church outta the boy."

Sonny rolled his eyes. "It's just... gross," he concluded, downtrodden.

"Men are gross," Amanda reasoned.

"Hey!" Sonny and Fin replied indignantly in unison.

"Not you guys, of course," she insisted hurriedly before adding, "the rest of them."

Sometimes, Amanda really did believe that she knew the only two good men out there. It made her feel sad and lucky all at once.


	2. Chapter 2

Amanda was awakened by the sound of Luca crying. No - wailing. He was beginning to teethe and this was his new pattern: he screamed until somebody held him, no matter the time of day or night. Sometimes his noise woke Jesse up, too, because his crib was still in the living room.

Wanting to avoid two disgruntled children, she quickly moved to fling the covers off of her, but then heard Sonny muttering, "I got him, I got him." She stopped, thankful, but she was awake anyway, so she flipped on the light next to her. Amanda rubbed her face, digging the heels of her palms into her eyes, seeing stars. Tomorrow neither of them had to be up early since the sting was later in the night, but sometimes it was harder being at home with two children than at work. Amanda was constantly grateful for Audrey, who took care of Jesse and Luca in the most loving and patient way in their absence.

Sonny reappeared holding the baby, who was now whimpering and grabbing at his mouth with his little hands. Frannie followed him into the room, undoubtedly looking for any excuse to sleep on their bed. Sonny eased himself down onto the mattress, leaning back against the headboard with Luca on his chest. Amanda reached for her nightstand and found one of the baby's various teething rings, then put it in his small grasp for him to gnaw on. She could see him drooling everywhere - onto Sonny's t-shirt, their sheets, down his own arm - but she was too tired to do anything about it.

Laying on her side, Amanda watched the two of them. Sonny's eyes were closed, a reassuring palm settled on Luca's back. Then she studied Luca, with his chubby cheeks, his big blue gaze and wet eyelashes; he was such a beautiful baby, even miserable in the middle of the night. His name meant 'bringer of light' in Italian and every day, he did just that.

"You worried about tomorrow night?" Sonny asked her, voice quiet and eyes still shut.

Amanda shrugged. "No. Are you?"

"I'm not crazy about the idea."

"We've done this stuff a million times."

"I know."

She didn't say anything else. She had a feeling she knew where the conversation was going - and she already disliked it. Whenever Sonny worried about her around work, Amanda got prickly and defensive, and it always ended in an argument.

Reaching out a hand, she smoothed over Luca's fuzzy little head. His hair was coming in blonde. Soon his eyelids would droop and his grip would weaken on the plastic toy, too tired to soothe himself anymore. Sonny would fall asleep, too, and Amanda would gently pluck the baby from his chest and tip toe back into the living room to deposit Luca into his crib. It was a routine these nights and even if it was uncomfortable, it was precious, and Amanda realized that when Sonny coddled her it was because all he wanted to do was protect it. She only wished that she could figure out how to meet it with gratitude instead of resistance.

* * *

Amanda fixed her lipstick in the cloudy hotel mirror. The state of her make-up didn't seem to matter to the six clients she had already arrested, but still, she had her standards. She wasn't wearing a wire, her gun or her badge - there was no room to hide any of it in her too-tight leather mini dress. She actually owned the outfit, although she hadn't worn it in a few years. There were a lot of clothes in the depths of her closet that hadn't seen the light of day in awhile, because they were only appropriate for gambling clubs and other questionable venues. She had no need for them now.

The room had a camera, where Liv, Fin and Sonny watched while waiting downstairs. The busts happened within minutes, the squad bursting in after any mention of money, and the scene usually ended with a lot of blubbering and pleading, _please don't tell my wife!_ Amanda had only been stood up once that night - by the Bishop, who she assumed felt too bogged down by his Catholic guilt to follow through.

There was a knock at the door and Amanda looked at the clock.

It was almost two in the morning and her last client was right on time: Kevin, a scrawny computer programmer who had sent her an oddly detailed message about his interests earlier that day. Running fingers through her hair, Amanda strode on high heels to the front of the room. Looking at Kevin through the peep hole, he was huddled up in a coat, anxiously shifting from foot to foot with his hands stuffed in his pockets. She felt kind of badly for him.

Amanda pulled open the door and displayed her best pageant smile. She felt strangely comfortable in this role; she was a consummate liar. "Hey, baby. C'mon in."

Kevin had trouble meeting her eyes; he looked like an overgrown teenager, the sort who got stuffed in a locker by the football team. "Hi."

"Don't be nervous, darlin', I don't bite," she promised him before adding seductively, "unless you want me to."

His gaze widened and he laughed, barely.

"Take off your coat, stay awhile," Amanda encouraged him smoothly, drifting over to the mini bar. She ran her hands lightly over the small selection of cheap liquor bottles and asked, "you wanna drink?"

"Don't move."

She looked up and saw Kevin shakily holding a pistol, pointed right at her.

The color drained from Amanda's face: she had not expected this. Maybe she should have, given the weirdness of his message to her, but there were plenty of socially awkward individuals who sought out prostitutes because real relationships escaped them. Kevin looked angry and scared, like he wasn't sure what he was doing but knew he was too far in to stop now.

Amanda put both of her palms up in the air in a sign of surrender, still maintaining her smile despite her fear. "Hey, now, don't-"

"Shut up, bitch!" he yelled, moving toward her. "All you women do is talk!"

"Okay, okay. You talk, then. Talk to me," she whispered gently. She kept the tremor out of her voice, but her insides were shaking. Without her weapon, she felt especially powerless.

He took a step toward her, irate. "What, are you a therapist now? You're just a whore. You're just like the rest of them, you don't care about what I have to-"

With a loud 'crack,' the door swung open. With the gun still pointed at Amanda, Kevin looked over his shoulder at Sonny, Fin and Liv, all with their weapons drawn.

"Drop the gun, now!" Sonny's voice was angry, loud.

"I knew it! I knew it! You're a cop!" Kevin sputtered to Amanda, waving the gun around dangerously.

"And so are we, so put the gun down," Sonny repeated through gritted teeth. "Do it before you make this a lot worse for yourself."

Kevin's eyes flitted between the squad and Amanda, and for a fleeting moment, Amanda though he might shoot her despite the obvious police presence. He had a wild look in his eyes - one she had seen before, one that indicated that something in his life had gone terribly awry and he wanted to prove that the victim could also be the victimizer, that he could be in control.

Chest heaving, he released his grip, the gun dropping onto the bouncy surface of the mattress. Liv and Fin rushed forward while Sonny slammed Kevin against the wall to roughly cuff him.

"You're hurting me!" Kevin yelped, writhing in Sonny's grip.

"Carisi," Liv said, tone warning.

"Oh, sorry," Sonny said gruffly, not sounding sorry at all.

"You okay, Rollins?" the lieutenant asked, putting her weapon back in her holster so she could use a gloved hand to carefully pick up Kevin's gun. She pulled out the magazine and emptied the chamber: two bullets fell out onto the ugly green comforter.

"Yeah, all good," Amanda promised her. "He didn't touch me."

It was over.

As Sonny hauled Kevin to an available squad car, Amanda went downstairs to retrieve her belongings. She put her NYPD windbreaker on over her dress, slipped the heels off in favor of her boots and went outside to meet with Narcotics to wrap up the sting. The officers and detectives from both units all huddled together in the parking lot rehashing the night's events, but Amanda was only listening to bits and pieces of the discussion.

By her side, Sonny subtly pressed her two rings into her palm. Amanda curled her fingers around them; he had been holding onto them for her all night. As she slid them back onto her hand, her eyes flickered to the backs of all of the various undercover vehicles: six girls and seven men sat handcuffed. Tomorrow their work would be written up in the newspaper as a job well-done.

"Good job tonight, everybody," Lieutenant Pizzelli concluded. "Most important thing is that everybody stayed safe. Rollins, sounds like that last guy was a close one, glad you got him."

Snapping back to attention, Amanda gave a little nod of acknowledgement.

She was ready to go home.

* * *

It was three in the morning by the time they returned to Long Island City.

"We're off tomorrow, Aud. Don't come over," Amanda told Audrey quietly in the kitchen.

Audrey yawned. "Yeah? Call me if you need me," she murmured as she sleepily put her jacket on.

"Not a chance," Amanda assured her with a small smile. "Get home safe."

When she left, Amanda and Sonny moved carefully around the apartment, trying to get ready for bed without waking up Jesse or Luca. She wasn't at all tired; adrenaline was still running hot through her veins. Even after she had showered and washed away all of her make-up and hair spray, she remained energized. In the bedroom alone, she brushed out her wet hair in front of the mirror, practiced hands beginning to style it into a quick French braid. Tomorrow when she woke up and took it down, it would be presentably wavy.

Sonny wandered in eventually. He shut the door and sank down on the edge of the bed, leaning over to rest elbows on his knees, his usual posture. She watched him in the mirror as her fingers moved through her tresses: his brows were knitted together, a crease forming between them as he studied the floor. He looked like he was turning something over in his head.

Finally, he spoke: "I don't think I can do it anymore."

"Do what?" Amanda asked, confused.

He didn't say anything.

Securing her braid with an elastic, Amanda turned around, worried. "Sonny?"

He looked up, meeting her gaze. "I don't think I wanna work at SVU anymore."

Amanda's eyes grew wide with shock. "What? What are you talkin' about?"

"Barba told me that there's an A.D.A position openin' up downtown. I wanna interview for it," he explained slowly.

"Wait a second. Wait. Where is this coming from?" she sputtered, caught totally off guard.

"I've been thinkin' about it for awhile," he admitted, rubbing his palms together absently. "But... part of it is, I just don't think I can spend the rest of my career watchin' scumbags wave guns in my wife's face."

"Okay, it's not like that happens every day," Amanda challenged him pointedly.

"That's not the point. The point is that it happens. And yeah, that comes with the territory. But, I just... it's different now."

"It isn't different."

"For you it's not."

"We've been together - and working together - for years. What's changed? 'Cause we're married?"

"No, I know all that. It's never been easy, Amanda. I mean maybe for you it is, but I've always had a hard time switchin' roles, from somebody who loves you to cop," Sonny explained. "And I want to do this. I went to law school for a reason."

"You're making it seem like it's never bothered me. It has," she insisted. There was panic rising up inside of her, hot and nauseating, and she didn't know why. "I don't like seeing you in dangerous situations. Of course it's hard to react like a cop and not somebody who loves you. But we've been doing it and it's fine. Everything is fine."

"No, Amanda, what I'm tellin' you is, it's not fine," he asserted wearily. "I've been waitin' for something to show me that I'm ready to move on from SVU. When I passed the bar, I thought about it, then we lost Dodds and... it just didn't feel right. But something about this... I think it's time. Seein' that guy tonight, I almost shot him. I swear to God, Amanda, I coulda killed him."

"Yeah, but, you didn't."

"No, I didn't. Still. I just think... this happened, that position opened up - there's only fifty A.D.A. slots in the city, y'know - and I think it's for a reason."

"So, what? You just wanna quit?"

"I didn't say that."

"That's what it sounds like."

He raised an eyebrow, sensing her anxiety. "Why are you so worked up about this?"

"Because..." Amanda began tentatively. "I don't want anything to change. I like working together. I like how things are. Things are good how they are."

His brow furrowed. "Change isn't always bad."

"The type of people who say that are the ones who've only ever had good shit happen to them," she snapped unfairly.

She knew what was happening: when she felt vulnerable, she got mean. She just couldn't figure out _why_ this made her so nervous. Maybe it was because she liked having him as an ally at work, as someone safe and familiar. He had become a fixture at SVU, reliable and good. It wasn't fair, but all of the times Amanda got angry at Sonny for trying to protect her, she realized that she would rather have him continue to do it and complain about it than lose his hovering presence all together.

"That isn't true," Sonny argued.

"We'll never see each other. You realize that, right? Why do you think Barba is so fucking miserable all the time? He probably hasn't gotten laid in ten years 'cause he's so busy. Between my schedule and yours, we'll never be home at the same time." She could hear herself and she sounded crazy, unhinged, but it was spilling out of her anyway.

His eyes widened. "Whoa, Amanda, you're gettin' way ahead-"

"No, I'm not. I'm being realistic," she interrupted him, then added unnecessarily, "as usual."

"Alright, well. Glad we could have this talk," Sonny muttered sarcastically as he got to his feet. "I shouldn't have brought it up now."

Blue eyes meeting, they looked at one another in silence. He was stern, she was stubborn, and after a minute he quietly left the bedroom with an exasperated shake of his head.

Amanda gnawed at her thumb nail. She didn't like surprises - good surprises, bad surprises, _any_ surprises. Climbing into bed and rolling onto her side, she pulled the sheets over her so high that only her eyes were left uncovered. She looked like a little kid, but since she was acting like one, it was only appropriate.

* * *

The next morning, Amanda put Luca in his stroller and walked Jesse to daycare.

"So, what are you gonna tell everybody about Bunny at show-and-tell today?" Amanda asked her daughter curiously. At Jesse's request, she had tied a yellow bandana around her favorite stuffed animal's neck for the occasion, just like she usually did with Frannie.

"That he's my best friend," Jesse answered simply, bouncing along at her mother's side.

"I thought _I_ was your best friend," Amanda said, taking mock offense.

"You're my _other_ one," her daughter explained.

"Ohhhh. Okay." She nodded like she understood.

They waited on the sidewalk to cross the street next to a young man who was holding the leash of a small, fluffy dog.

"I like your dog," Jesse told him boldly. "I have a dog."

The man looked down at her, surprised at how assertive such a small person could be. "Yeah? What's your dog's name?"

"Frannie," she replied proudly.

"This is Chester." The man motioned down to the fuzzy creature by his feet.

"Can I pet him?"

"Sure you can."

"Wow! He's so fluffy!" Jesse blurted excitedly, her little hand gently stroking the animal. "Can we have a new dog, mama?"

Amanda shook her head. "No. We don't have any room."

Jesse pouted.

When the man left and they resumed walking, Amanda told her daughter, "you know you're not supposed to talk to strangers."

"I know." That was Jesse's new thing: doing something she wasn't supposed to, being reminded about it, then telling her mother _I know._

After dropping Jesse off at school, Amanda turned around and headed back home. She planned to stop at a bakery near by to pick up some doughnuts - a non-verbal apology to Sonny for her meltdown the night before. When her phone rang, she assumed it was him, but instead she saw Declan's name. Heaving a sigh, Amanda knew she couldn't avoid him any longer.

"Hey," she answered casually, slowing her pace with the stroller.

"Amanda. I've been calling you for a week." He didn't sound happy.

"Yeah, I know, sorry," Amanda told him insincerely.

"You know?" Declan repeated incredulously.

"Yeah, I've been busy."

"It's not like I just sit around all-"

"Okay, Declan. What do you want?"

"Can I see Jesse this weekend?"

"No. She has a playdate Saturday and it's Angelina's birthday Sunday."

"Okay... some time next week then?"

"I mean, maybe, I gotta see my schedule..."

"Don't jerk me around, Amanda."

"I'm not! You know my hours aren't always regular," Amanda snapped.

"Will you call me when you know?" he asked.

"Yes. I will," she mumbled.

"I'm serious, Amanda."

"I know you are!"

"Good. I'll be waiting. 'Bye."

Amanda hung up the phone and shoved it back in her pocket. She was so resentful that Declan was trying to slot himself into her already full life now when he hadn't been around in almost four years. His threat to take her to court still rang in her ears and while she would never admit it, it terrified her. It was why she answered the phone, because she didn't want him to snap, and Amanda sensed he was on the edge. She would make good on her promise to call him later in the week, if only to keep their interactions out of the legal system.

She eventually returned to the apartment with a bakery box balanced on Luca's stroller. Sonny was standing up in the kitchen, reading a newspaper spread out atop the counter.

"I brought doughnuts," Amanda announced, pulling the baby from his confines to set him on his colorful play mat in the adjoining living room.

Sonny looked up from his paper, appearing skeptical. "Doughnuts, huh?"

"Yeah. They had your favorite, maple bacon," she explained brightly, returning to the kitchen to set the box by his side.

"I already ate," Sonny said flatly.

"Oh. Well. More for me then," she rebounded, plucking a glazed doughnut from the box before leaning her back against the counter. She pulled it apart and ate a piece, sugar and fried dough melting in her mouth. Sonny's back to her, she watched his lean muscles move beneath his t-shirt as he turned the page of his paper. "You mad at me?"

"I'm kinda pissed off, yeah," he admitted, still reading.

She scrunched up her nose. "'Cause of last night?"

"Yeah."

"I overreacted... a little."

"'A little?'" He turned around to face her, arms folded across his chest.

"Okay, a lot."

"What was that all about? I don't get it," Sonny asked, appearing genuinely bewildered. "It can't come as that big of a surprise to you."

"I just wasn't expecting you to say it," she answered him lamely, ripping off another piece of the doughnut in her hand. "You went on that interview in Brooklyn and you've talked about it here and there but nothing serious."

"I'm not thousands of dollars in debt for nothin', Amanda. It's something I actually wanna do," he reminded her sharply.

Amanda cringed, eyes flickering to the floor. "I know, I know."

"So if you could like, pretend to be even the littlest bit supportive, I'd appreciate it."

Looking up, Sonny was wearing an expression of annoyance and hurt. She suddenly felt very stupid.

Abandoning the rest of her doughnut on a paper towel, she quickly rinsed lingering glaze off of her fingers before turning back to Sonny. She wiped her palms off on her jeans and sighed, appearing timid. "I'm sorry. I know you've worked really hard and... you should do it. You should interview."

"Now you're just sayin' that because you feel guilty and I won't eat your doughnuts," Sonny grumbled.

She shook her head with a small, cautious smile. "I'm not. I don't want you to leave SVU. You're a great detective and everybody knows it. I like seeing you at work and knowin' you're there," she admitted.

"I like that, too, but..."

"But," Amanda finished Sonny's sentence. "I know this is important to you."

"It is," Sonny insisted.

"I know. It's just... you know I don't do well with change. I go kinda crazy and then... then I get used to the idea. It just takes me a little while," Amanda explained sheepishly. She wrapped her arms around his lean torso, chin tilted up to look at him. "I want you to do it. You're the smartest person I know."

A grin tugged at the corners of Sonny's mouth. "Y'think so?"

She nodded. "I know so."


	3. Chapter 3

Kim painted Jesse's nails on the coffee table. The polish was pink and sparkly, the exact opposite of anything Amanda would ever choose, but her daughter was her own headstrong individual and would accept nothing less. She was sure Declan would have something to say about it when he saw her later. For somebody who had never raised a child, he certainly had a lot of opinions on parenting lately.

"Now, Jesse, you can't touch anything after I'm done. You'll smudge 'em," Kim instructed her niece, sitting cross-legged on the floor.

Jesse nodded. "Okay."

Amanda washed dishes in the kitchen, smiling. She was grateful for Kim - or at least, this version of Kim. Sometimes she forgot about all the terrible stuff she had done and she was just her sweet little sister, not the manipulative, irrational woman who had wreaked havoc on her life for years. Jesse thought her aunt was _so cool_ \- way cooler than her mother - and if Amanda had anything to say about it, her daughter would never know about Kim's past transgressions. She wanted to preserve this, to make _this Kim_ the only reality. Since they were young, Amanda had tried to protect her. Even now that she was doing the right thing, Amanda had the impulse to hover, to check in incessantly, still occasionally afraid history would repeat itself. So far, it hadn't. So far, Kim was well.

"How's Connor?" Amanda asked curiously about her boyfriend.

"Oh, he's great. School gets out soon and he wants to go on vacation," Kim said brightly.

"You gotta ask your parole officer for permission if you wanna leave the state," she reminded her sister.

"I know, I know."

"Just checkin'."

After a few moments of silence, Kim called to her again: "Hey, 'Manda?"

"Yeah?"

"Y'know how I'm graduatin' from the sober house in a month?"

"Yeah..."

"Well, I've gotta move and..."

"And...?"

Kim kept carefully painting Jesse's nails as she explained, "I was wonderin' if maybe, you could lend me some money for a new place? Just for first and last month's rent? I saved up some but not enough..."

Amanda set down the dish she was drying, looking at her sister over the kitchen counter. Kim cast a wide-eyed glance at her over her slim shoulder.

She hadn't given Kim money in years, with good reason. Kim had stolen from her many times, of course, but Amanda had stopped willingly handing her cash when she realized it all went right up her sister's nose. It had been over a year since Kim had cleaned up her act, and now she was looking at Amanda all earnest and hopeful, like this really meant something to her. This time, it wasn't about drugs or some scam she was trying to pull. This time it was about a roof over her head while she went to school, worked and rebuilt her life.

Amanda's heart squeezed in her chest. She didn't have any extra money to spare - not with two children, not with some distant hope of getting a bigger place - but she would muddle through if it meant Kim could be somewhere safe. She would ask for Sonny's forgiveness later.

"I'll write a check to the landlord," Amanda promised her levelly. She still felt uneasy about handing Kim a large sum of money - and it _would_ be large, because this was New York City and even a studio apartment cost thousands. "Just tell me who to make it out to and for how much."

"Really?" Kim exclaimed.

"Yeah, really." Amanda smiled.

She jumped up from her place on the floor, scampered into the kitchen and wrapped her arms around Amanda in a sideways hug. "Oh, 'Manda, thank you! I'll pay you back, I swear!"

"Uh huh."

Amanda had already resigned herself to the fact that she would most likely never see that money again. Investing in Kim's future was a lot like gambling; she only hoped that it wouldn't leave her as miserable as blackjack and sports betting had.

* * *

Lately a 'date' consisted of Sonny's parents taking the kids to Staten Island and the two of them ordering take-out to enjoy in the quiet.

It was awesome.

They were watching some terrible television, too, until Amanda murmured something benign into Sonny's ear and suddenly his hand was creeping up her thigh like they were high schoolers testing boundaries. Soon it was not so chaste: Amanda was stretched out beneath him on the couch, her t-shirt shoved upward to reveal her bra, his fingers blindly unzipping her jeans as he kissed her.

The doorbell buzzed.

"Ignore it," Sonny ordered breathlessly into her mouth.

"It's probably the food!" she laughed, bumping her nose playfully against his.

That got his attention, as food often did. "Oh, yeah."

She kissed him one more time. Untangling their limbs, Amanda fumbled with the button of her jeans and readjusted her top to run to the front of the apartment, Frannie at her heels. She snatched the cash off of the kitchen counter before pulling open the front door. She expected to see somebody holding their Thai food, but instead she saw a constable.

"Hi. Can I help you?" she asked curiously, disappointed that now she was neither having sex nor eating.

"Amanda Carisi?" the man inquired.

"Yes..." It was weird hearing that out loud, from a stranger, since most of the people she knew still called her 'Rollins.'

"I've got a delivery for you," he explained, handing her a large envelope.

Confused, her brow furrowed. "Huh?"

"Sign here, please." He passed her a piece of paper which simply stated that she acknowledged that she received the envelope, not that she agreed with the contents.

Suspicious, Amanda took his pen and scrawled her signature. "What's this-"

"I'm not at liberty to say," the constable said. "Have a good night."

Envelope in hand, she closed the door and walked back into the living room.

"Where's the food?" Sonny asked.

"It wasn't the food, it was this." Amanda held up the envelope.

"What the hell is that?" He looked disgruntled because he could not eat it.

Amanda dropped back down on the couch next to him, crossing her legs beneath her. "I dunno, there's nothing on it..." She turned it over in her hands several times looking for a name or an address, but it was blank.

"Well, open it up."

She broke the seal with a slip of her thumb and pulled out a few sheets of paper. Her eyes anxiously roamed the words, some typed, others handwritten:

 _In the case of a child born in the state of New York whose paternity has not been established by means of an affidavit of paternity, the mother or the natural father may initiate a request for an acknowledgment of paternity..._

 _...I, Declan A. Murphy, born on June 7th, 1968, being first duly sworn, depose and say: that I am the biological father of Jesse Anne Rollins, a child born on December 29th, 2014 at Bellevue Hospital, New York, New York to Amanda Rollins..._

Her heart dropped into her stomach. Frantically Amanda flipped to the next page, revealing a document titled 'Affidavit of Disclosing Care or Custody Proceeding.'

"Son of a bitch," she whispered, hand to her mouth, fingers tugging anxiously at her lip.

"What?" Sonny took the papers from her, head down as he read it for himself. "You gotta be kiddin' me. He is such a dog, servin' you on a Saturday night when he could have just talked to you."

She swallowed. "The second page..."

Sonny flipped the page, eyes scanning the affidavit. Obviously he was much better equipped to decipher the legal jargon, especially now that Amanda was working herself up into a panic. "This... this is a document sayin' he wants joint custody. Legally and physically."

"What does that mean, exactly?" Amanda was pretty certain she knew the answer, but she didn't want to say it out loud.

"It means..." Sonny began slowly. He was using the tone of voice he saved for relaying bad news. "...that he wants Jesse to live with him half the time, and to have the right to make long-term decisions about how she's raised."

This was Amanda's worst nightmare.

"What? No!" she blurted, eyes wide with horrified disbelief. "He can't do that!"

"Well, no, he can't... yet. Not until you sign this stuff and you go to family court," he told her.

"He wants Jesse to _live_ with him? He wants to take her from here? From me? Half of the time?" she exclaimed, voice strangled by her rising emotion. She shook her head so fast she made herself dizzy, then dragged fingers through her hair, tugging at the strands. "No. No way. I'm not signin' anything. He must be out of his fucking mind!"

Sonny carefully set the papers on the coffee table. "If you don't sign this, it's gonna get worse. You aren't signin' that you agree to the terms, you're signin' that you acknowledge him as Jesse's father. "

Hot, angry tears were stinging her eyes. In her mind she was already ten steps ahead of Sonny, consumed with fear. "What am I supposed to say to her? She's four. Am I supposed to say, 'oh by the way, you only live here - pretty much the only home you've ever known - three days a week now because your dad is suddenly interested in you, but your brother gets to stay?'" Amanda croaked helplessly.

"Amanda, hey, hold on," Sonny protested. "We're not there yet. We'll get a lawyer."

"You're a lawyer. You be the lawyer," she demanded childishly. She couldn't believe how calm he was, while she felt like her entire world was being turned upside down.

He gave her a pointed look. "You know I can't. It wouldn't be fair." He rubbed at his jaw, thinking. "I'll ask Barba if he knows anybody." Barba was Sonny's hero - if he told Sonny to hire a giraffe as legal counsel, he would do it, no questions asked.

Amanda leaned her head back, blinking away her tears as she studied the ceiling. "He saw her two days ago. Why couldn't he just talk to me?"

Sonny slid a long arm across her shoulders, his other hand squeezing her knee as he leaned in to look at her. "You know better than anybody that he's tryin' to fuck with you. He's not stupid. He's sendin' a message that he wants to be in control, that he's not gonna let you dictate when he sees her."

She covered her face with her palms and took a deep breath. Sonny was right, of course, but she hated it. She hated that Declan spent his entire existence trying to exert power over people - in his work and in his personal life. Most of all, she hated that she was involved in both.

"Let's have a drink," she heard Sonny suggest, then felt him get to his feet. "What d'ya want? I'll make you something."

Amanda dropped her hands into her lap and watched him in the kitchen, rooting around the liquor cabinet. "We can't afford a lawyer."

"Yeah, we can," he insisted. "We've got money left over from the wedding."

"No, we don't," she replied quietly.

Sonny looked over at her, confused as he screwed the cap off of a bottle of whiskey. "I just saw it in the account yesterday."

She wrung her hands together. "Yeah... I sort of..."

"'Sort of' what, Amanda?" He stopped what he was doing to stare at her expectantly.

"I promised Kim I'd help her pay for a new place to live," Amanda concluded meekly.

He froze. "Are you serious?"

"Yeah."

"Kim is _thirty-one years old_. She can rent her own apartment."

"No, she can't, Sonny. You know she can't. She lives off tips from the diner and she's gotta be out in a month."

"I'm not tryin' to be insensitive, but that isn't our problem, Amanda. She knew she was graduating. She shoulda planned better."

"Are you sayin' that if one of your sisters came to you for help, you wouldn't do it?"

"No. You know I would. But Kim has taken you for a ride a hundred times and who's to say this isn't gonna backfire?"

"I can't say that, but I can't let her be homeless. I won't. I don't want her resorting to doing something she shouldn't..."

"And what about Jesse?"

"I don't know." The words left Amanda's mouth in a whimper. She felt like she was being ripped in half by her desperation, by her love for both Kim and Jesse.

"Without a lawyer, Murphy's gonna annihilate you. You understand that?" Sonny was slammed two glasses down on the counter. Amanda knew that his frustration was rooted in fear. Turning around again, he pointed at her angrily. "Kim isn't your kid. I know she acts like it, but she isn't."

Amanda bowed her head, tears swimming in her eyes. He was right: Kim wasn't her child, but for her entire life, Amanda had cared for her as if she was - often at her own expense. But it was different now. She had a family, one that needed protecting, and she couldn't afford to rescue everybody. When it came down to it, four-year-old Jesse needed her more. Amanda wouldn't be able to live with herself if she didn't put up a fight for her own daughter; she had been fighting for Kim all of her life.

"She's not gettin' the money," Sonny concluded curtly. "I love Kim, but you can't bail her out this time. _We_ can't. End of story."

"I'll tell her I can't do it," Amanda whispered, brushing away the wetness beneath her eyes. "I know you're right, it's just hard." Her voice broke at the end of her sentence as she struggled to keep herself composed.

Sonny's expression softened at the sight of her distress. "Amanda..." The acid was out of his tone and his voice was gentler, apologetic. "I know you-"

The doorbell buzzed; the food had arrived.

Amanda didn't care.

This was the worst date she had ever been on.


	4. Chapter 4

Pacing the living room on Monday evening, Amanda called Kim.

"Hi!" her sister chirped in her ear.

"Hey. You got a sec?" she asked.

"Sure," Kim agreed. "I'm on my break. What's up?"

Amanda sighed. "So... a few days ago I got served with papers. Declan is takin' me to court for shared custody of Jesse."

"Oh, no, 'Manda. I'm sorry."

"Yeah... well, I need a lawyer and it's expensive, y'know." She rubbed the back of her neck with her free hand and closed her eyes. "I know I promised I'd help you get an apartment but... I don't think I can anymore. The lawyer, it's gonna cost thousands..."

"What am I supposed to do now?" her sister blurted.

"Can you ask mama?" Amanda suggested tentatively.

"She already gave me money for school."

"Kim, I'm really, really sorry."

"I knew this would happen. You had Jesse and the baby and got married and now you don't care about me."

"You know that isn't true-"

"Yes it is!"

"What do you want me to do, Kim? I've gotta take care of Jesse," Amanda exclaimed, growing annoyed by her sister's immature response.

"Who takes care of me, huh?" Kim snapped. "I've been doin' everything you want-"

"No, Kim, not what I want," she interrupted Kim firmly. "It's not about me, you're doin' good for you."

"Whatever, 'Manda," she grumbled before hanging up.

Amanda should have known: her sister hated when she didn't get what she wanted, when she wanted it. Kim had changed in the past year - but not that much.

* * *

The night before court, she couldn't sleep. Wide awake at midnight, Sonny was sitting up beside her, watching a movie from bed. Amanda was very obviously not paying attention. Initially Sonny had been, but now his eyes were drifting shut and he was succumbing to exhaustion despite his valiant effort to keep Amanda company.

Carefully, she got out of bed, leaving Sonny somewhere in between asleep and awake with the television still on. She was always amazed how he could rest even under the most stressful of circumstances, where as she only got six hours on her very best night. In the living room, Amanda hovered over Luca's crib, the electronic mobile creaking quietly above his head. The little dinosaurs that hung from it wobbled with its gentle movement, although nobody but Amanda was watching them now. She smiled down at her peaceful infant son. He looked so soft and warm in his footed pajamas that Amanda had to resist the urge to pick him up mid-slumber in order to cuddle him selfishly.

Leaving Luca be, she drifted over to Jesse's room and lingered in the doorway. The little girl had fallen asleep on her stomach with her thumb in her mouth, Bunny's ear gripped loosely in the same fist. The stuffed animal still wore his yellow bandanna; Amanda had yet to successfully steal him to toss him in the wash after his adventure at preschool. Jesse's cheeks were pink, her light brown hair disheveled, and a leg stuck out from underneath one of her blankets. She looked like a doll, all porcelain skin and big features.

Declan had no idea.

He didn't know anything about Jesse, not really. He didn't know that she liked pink - _not_ purple - that in the winter time she often got bronchitis, or that her favorite food was big, black olives that she could stick on all of her small fingers. He didn't know that sometimes she sang herself to sleep or how sweetly she kissed her brother when he cried and she was trying to be helpful. He had never seen her throw a full-body tantrum, the kind where she kicked and shrieked until her limbs were limp and exhausted in a pile on the floor. He had never been snuggled by her, either. Jesse liked making herself as cozy and compact as possible in her mother's lap while they watched television. _Hold me like a baby!_ , she'd demand and Amanda would always comply, because she _was_ her baby. At four years old, she was a child and a teenager, needing to be cuddled until she found something cooler to do. She was so curious. Declan didn't know it, but nobody asked more questions than Jesse. God bless Sonny, who humored the little girl for hours. Most importantly, when Jesse said _daddy?_ , Sonny never failed to answer.

Amanda wrapped her arms around her torso like she was protecting herself from something. She chewed the inside of her lower lip too hard, drawing blood. It would be sore tomorrow, but maybe it would distract her from how intensely her heart hurt.

She felt Sonny come up behind her, arms encircling her, his chest pressed up against her back. "Whatcha doin'?" he murmured into her hair.

 _Watching, appreciating. Dreading._ She shrugged.

"Come back to bed, huh?" Sonny suggested quietly.

"I can't sleep," Amanda whispered.

"This isn't helping." He reached over and pulled the door toward them, using his body to nudge Amanda out of the way. Quietly, he shut Jesse inside of her room. In the hallway, he rested a hand on each of Amanda's upper arms and looked her in the eye. "You gotta pull yourself together, 'Manda. Tomorrow's gonna be hard but you can do it. I've never met a woman tougher than you."

She opened her mouth to protest, but Sonny continued, "you've been in court a million times. I'm gonna be right there with you. That law guardian musta grilled Jesse for two hours the other day and she's only got good things to say."

"He's gonna bring up my gambling," Amanda reminded him.

"And you'll tell them the truth: that you haven't gambled in five years. You stopped the day you realized you were pregnant," he coached her slowly. "All you gotta tell them is the truth."

She nodded obediently.

He took her face in his palms. "You're an amazin' mother, Amanda. That's the truth, too."

* * *

Attorney Jeff McCray was exactly like Rafael Barba: sharp, intelligent and fearless. He took the information Amanda gave him and crafted it into beautifully-worded legal documents, he had a gaze that could freeze hell over, and he never spoke with anything less than total confidence. He was the epitome of arrogance and Amanda was impossibly grateful for him.

She was unusually tremulous standing before the judge, who was a stern-looking woman with perfectly coiffed silver hair. It was much different to be in court this way; Amanda was used to sitting in the gallery, watching somebody else's drama play out. Of course there had been times where she was a lot more than just a bystander: she remembered being humiliated by Nate, how mortifying it had been to be made a fool of in front of so many people. Then there was Chief Patton's trial, which to this day Amanda did everything in her power to forget. Even so, this still felt worse.

Sonny stood beside her, tall and sturdy, and she tried to channel some of his steadiness. Jeff looked unfazed, which Amanda appreciated. She purposefully kept her gaze straight ahead, but a few feet away, she could feel Declan's eyes burning holes through her.

Judge Hayes shuffled papers at the front of the room. She peered down at Amanda over her glasses. "Mrs. Carisi, what's your financial status?"

Amanda tucked her hair behind her ears, which was styled straight and smooth. "Your honor, I've supported Jesse alone since the day she was born, until I met my husband, who takes care of her like she's his own. We're both NYPD detectives." Her voice rang out clear and confident.

Judge Hayes' eyes flickered over to Sonny, then over to Declan. "And you, Mr. Murphy?"

Declan cleared his throat and adjusted the lapels of his suit. "With all due respect, your honor, Amanda has gambling debt totaling thousands-"

"I didn't ask for your assessment of her financial situation, Mr. Murphy," Judge Hayes interrupted. "I asked for information about yours."

Amanda pressed her lips together, suppressing a smile.

"I've been a lieutenant with NYPD for several years. I can provide substantial documentation showing that I am more than capable of caring for the needs of my child," Declan said firmly.

The judge rounded on Amanda. "Mrs. Carisi... gambling debt?"

Inwardly she cringed, outwardly she was stone-faced. "I haven't gambled in almost five years. I'm a member of Gambler's Anonymous. My debts are almost paid and they have no bearing on the quality of Jesse's life. The moment I knew I was having her, I quit."

"And you..." the judge looked down at her papers again before peering up at Sonny. "Mr. Carisi. How long have you known Jesse?"

"Since before she was born, your honor," Sonny answered her calmly.

"And what is the relationship like between Jesse and her step-father?" the judge asked no one in particular.

"Your honor, if you'll take a look at the detailed statement from the law guardian, you'll see that Dominick has helped raise Jesse from infancy, and that Jesse loves and respects him as her parent," Jeff explained smoothly.

The judge's eyes drifted over the document the attorney referenced. After a moment of contemplative silence, she looked over at Declan. "What kind of arrangement are you seeking, Mr. Murphy?"

"I'd like joint legal and physical custody." He said it with such certainty, such arrogance, that Amanda had to seriously suppress the urge to roll her eyes.

"And you, Mrs. Carisi?" Judge Hayes asked.

"Visitation every other weekend. One holiday. Nothing more, nothing less," Jeff answered for her. "Mr. Murphy has been largely absent from Jesse's life; he's a stranger to her. It's absolutely ridiculous to suggest uprooting a four-year-old from her home to live with someone she barely knows."

"Mr. Murphy is trying to reconnect with his daughter," Declan's lawyer argued. "The nature of his job meant he had no choice but to be out of the country for long periods, and the child's mother was hardly communicative during this time. She made an effort _not_ to involve him."

Judge Hayes sighed. "I can't speak to what went on years ago, but given the situation now, I have to agree with Mr. McCray," she said. "Mr. Murphy, while I appreciate your renewed interest in your child - better late than never, I suppose - I believe it is in Jesse's best interest to remain in the physical custody of her mother. You will be entitled to visitation two weekends a month, and one holiday a year."

Breathless with relief, Amanda squeezed Sonny's fingers at her side.

Declan's lawyer bridled. "Your honor-"

"We can revisit this in six weeks," the judge concluded. Her expression indicated that she wasn't interested in furthering the discussion.

Declan was wise enough not to confront Amanda until they were on the courthouse steps. They were almost to the sidewalk when Amanda heard him, his heavy footsteps pounding down the stone stairs as he chased her.

"This isn't over, Amanda," Declan called.

She whirled around on her heel, eyes narrow. Filled with pent-up anger, she felt Sonny's hand on her arm, like he was afraid she might lunge at the lieutenant.

"What the hell is your problem, Declan?" she spat. The polite and compliant woman in court was gone in an instant. This was the real Amanda: unafraid, fiercely protective. She wasn't going to hold back now. "What is it, huh? Are you jealous? Are you still pissed at me for screwing up your investigation years ago? Is that it? You wanna ruin my life? Go ahead, tell IAB what really happened, that you lied for me. I don't give a shit. Because here's the thing: Jesse is more important. You can fuck with me, Declan, but I'm not gonna let you fuck with my kid."

"You think I'm petty enough to do all of this just to get back at you? Or because I'm secretly pining over you? You flatter yourself, Detective." Declan took a step closer to her, face red and irate. "I wasn't around for years and I get that, but you didn't even try. I had to beg you to let me meet her when I was home. I'm not going to waste anymore time now."

"Why'd you have to take it to this level? Couldn't you just talk to me?" she demanded.

" _Talk to you?_ You very clearly ignore my calls," he laughed crassly.

She clenched her jaw. "I know this may shock you, but it's not only the _great Lieutenant Murphy_ who's got a busy life."

Declan shook his head, brushed past her and began to walk away. "I'm telling you, Amanda: this isn't over."

"Don't threaten me!" she yelled after him, drawing the attention of bystanders.

Without looking back at her, he got into a waiting taxi and disappeared.

Amanda wished she could believe that Declan was merely blowing smoke, but if there was one thing she knew for certain about Lieutenant Murphy, it was that he always made good on his word.

* * *

Luca made noises in Amanda's lap. He gurgled and cooed a series of pleasant sounds, exploring his vocal chords as he gnawed on his own fingers. She bounced him occasionally to hear his precious laugh, but most of her focus was on the clock. Sonny had his interview at the D.A.'s office at four o'clock that afternoon; it was six thirty now. She was both excited and nervous. Even though the potential change had jarred her, she knew that this meant a lot to Sonny. Last night Amanda had watched him at the kitchen table hunched over old class notes for hours, preparing. He had been fidgety - more so than usual - and visibly anxious, and she had tried her best not to hover.

When the front door finally opened, she jumped to her feet, baby attached to her hip. She rushed to Sonny's side.

"Well? How was it?" Amanda asked him before he was even all the way through the threshold.

He pulled off his coat to hang it up. "It went really well."

"Yeah?" she said eagerly. She tried to read his expression: he looked happy, but he generally always did.

"Yeah. Me and the D.A., we talked for a long time. I think he liked me," Sonny explained proudly. "I won't know for a couple of weeks, though."

She grinned. "That's great!"

"Well..."

"What?"

"There's one little thing." He shook off his suit jacket and loosened his tie as he walked into the living room.

Amanda adjusted Luca against her body and followed him. The baby's drool-covered fingers pulled at her hair. "Okay..."

"I mean, it's awesome," Sonny insisted, tossing his blazer haphazardly onto the couch. "It's exactly what I'd wanna do. But, the pay..."

She gave a little snort of laughter and rolled her eyes. "It can't be less than what we make now."

"It's eleven thousand dollars a year less, actually," he corrected her flatly.

Her mouth hung open in shock and dread weighed heavily in the pit of her stomach. She wasn't sure what she had been expecting, but she had at least assumed that he would be making the equivalent to his NYPD salary. " _Eleven thousand dollars less?_ "

"Yeah."

"How is that even possible?"

Hands in his pockets, Sonny shrugged. "There's no money in the public sector."

"Okay, well... that's fine. I mean, whatever," she eventually concluded lightly, although it was not 'whatever' at all. For once in her life, Amanda wanted to get ahead. Maybe it was selfish, but she was so damn tired of barely scraping by. They were hardly destitute, but an unexpected expense could potentially wreak havoc on their situation - especially after they had poured the last of their savings into retaining an attorney. Even so, she had still clung to a secret, distant hope of owning a home. In that instant, Amanda's last shred of optimism evaporated.

He didn't say anything, but he wasn't smiling anymore.

"If it's what you wanna do, we'll figure it out," Amanda assured him, grinning to mask her disappointment.

* * *

Amanda's fingers flew over the keyboard of her laptop. After five hours of overtime, she was ready to finish her notes and go home. The precinct was quiet except for a few lingering officers and a social worker, allowing Amanda to dedicate all of her attention to her remaining tasks. Now that court was over with (at least for the time being), her ability to concentrate had improved tenfold.

"Detective Rollins?"

She looked up to see a familiar uni named Armstrong hovering over her desk. "Hm?"

"There's someone here to see you," the officer explained.

Of course there was. She sighed and rubbed her eyes. "My witness from the homeless shelter? I knew he'd cave eventually."

"If he's homeless, he's the best-dressed homeless person I've ever seen," Armstrong quipped.

"Weird. But, alright." She stood up with her notebook and pen in hand. "Bring him back to interview one, will you?"

Armstrong nodded before walking away. "You got it."

In the interview room, Amanda pulled out her phone to quickly text Sonny: _Still here. Save me dinner? xo_

When the door creaked open, Amanda looked up and got to her feet. A tall man with graying blonde hair, dressed in a perfectly tailored tan suit stood before her. He appeared to be in his late sixties or early seventies. She furrowed her brow, confused. Armstrong was right: if he was homeless, it was because he spent all of his money on clothing. Maybe this was a mistake and she could go home after all. "Hi... I'm Detective Rollins. You asked to see me?"

His light eyes searched her face. "Mandy?"

 _Mandy._

Frozen with shock, Amanda's phone fell from her hand, tumbling to the floor.

She would know that voice anywhere: a warm southern twang, a little gruff from years of smoking and drinking.

It had been twenty-five years since she had last heard it.

It was her father.


	5. Chapter 5

Pete Rollins did not look like he did twenty-five years ago. Then again, neither did Amanda.

Her father had always been rough around the edges. His uniform used to consist of a white t-shirt and jeans, scruff on his face and a cigarette hanging between his oil-stained fingers. Before he lost his job to his gambling addiction, he was a skilled mechanic. _He can fix anything!_ six-year-old Amanda would proudly tell her classmates.

He could fix anything, but probably not this.

It had been too long. Amanda had spent years secretly wishing he would return, like maybe that would fill the void inside of her, the bottomless black hole that kept her in a seemingly never-ending cycle of toxic behaviors. It was almost as if she was punishing herself, purposefully destroying her life, like she was still that little girl wondering why she wasn't enough to make her father stay. Those were the thoughts Amanda never verbalized - she had barely spoken around them in therapy - but in that instant they flooded her, fresh and all-consuming.

She had a family now. Amanda's wholeness came from Sonny and her children - not from gambling, terrible relationships or drunken fantasies about her parents. The road had been rocky, but she had unchained herself from her past and it had allowed her to build a life she was proud of.

Amanda liked this version of herself. Even so, this was not a moment she was prepared for - not even at her very best.

"Dad?" Amanda croaked. The word felt foreign in her mouth. "How did you...? Where did you...?"

"Your name was in the news after a bust in the Bronx. I saw it online," her father explained, like it was nothing.

Her heartbeat was loud in her ears. "I..."

"Look at you, Mandy. All grown up and just as pretty as ever." He was smiling at her, with his mouth and with his eyes, like he was genuinely glad to see her.

Even after all of this time, she found satisfaction in his compliment. She quickly shook her head. "What are you doing here?" Amanda finally sputtered.

"I'm here to see you," he answered quietly.

"See me? It's been twenty-five years," she blurted, fingers running through her hair.

"I know. I know it has. I-" Pete's eyes moved around the room, settled briefly on his daughter's left hand, then grew wide. "Are you _married?_ "

"Huh? Yeah. Yeah, I am," Amanda replied dismissively. His observation could not distract her from her growing disbelief. "Where have you been?"

"A lot of places. I know this is a shock, Mandy-"

"That's puttin' it lightly."

"I know you're busy, but I was hopin' that you and me could get dinner one of these nights. Catch up."

"You wanna _catch up_ on over twenty years, over dinner?"

"I'd like to start to."

Her phone buzzed on the floor. A text message from Sonny flashed across the screen: _Yep. Love you._

Amanda bent down and picked it up, shoving it in her back pocket with shaking hands. She gathered up her notebook and pressed it protectively to her chest. "Why should I?" she demanded of her father, eyes narrow. Suddenly she was angry. She hated being caught off guard. Why couldn't her family be more like Sonny's, crazy but reliable and kind? Why were her relatives so selfish and erratic? And why did they insist on disrupting her existence, over and over again, always when things were going well? "You waited twenty-five years to find me, so what the hell is the urgency now, huh? If you need money, I don't have any."

Her father shook his head. "I don't need money."

She moved toward the door, anxious for an escape. "Then what is it? What do you want?"

"I'd like the chance to get to know you, if you'd let me, Mandy," he told her solemnly.

Her hand on the door knob, she paused. She met his eyes - they were the exact same shade of blue as hers were. His features were sheepish, hopeful, void of the scheming and mischief she remembered so clearly from her childhood. Amanda filled her lungs with air and exhaled. "I'll think about it."

* * *

Le Bernardin was a restaurant Amanda had walked past several times but never entered. Any place that didn't list prices on their menu was very obviously out of her budget. In her mind, if you had to ask, you couldn't afford it.

Her father wanted to meet there for dinner.

Her husband urged her to go, because nobody handed out second chances quite as freely as Sonny Carisi. Amanda didn't tell her sister or her mother about Pete's surprise appearance, though, mostly because she was dreading their emotionally-charged responses. In the back of her mind, she had already assumed that this would be fleeting, and that her father would be out of her life again just as suddenly as he had reappeared.

When Amanda arrived at the restaurant Friday night, she was grateful to see her wine glass already filled in front of the empty seat across from her father. Everything around her was sleek, modern and expensive - even the other diners looked lavish. She was glad she changed out of her plaid button-up and took her hair down before arriving, although she still felt out of place.

"Mandy!" her father called to her enthusiastically, waving a hand.

Bracing herself, she walked over to him. "Hi," she murmured, sinking down into the chair before he could make any kind of attempt to hug her.

"Did you have a good day?" Pete asked cheerfully.

"Uh, yeah," Amanda told him awkwardly.

Her father smiled. "So, where to begin?"

She blinked at him wordlessly.

"Your husband... what's he do?" he asked curiously.

Hands in her lap, she spun her rings around on her finger. "He's a detective. And a lawyer." She deliberately added the last bit because she wanted to impress her father, even after all this time, after all the disappointment and unknowns. She felt pathetic.

"Both, huh?" Pete raised an eyebrow. "Must be smart."

Amanda took up her wine glass. At the very least, she was going to need a good buzz to endure this interaction. "He is."

"He's with you, so of course he is. You got any kids?" His expression softened and he appeared almost sad, like he already knew he had been absent for that, too.

She swallowed the dark red liquid; it was the best wine she had ever tasted. "Two."

"Two? Do you have a picture? What are their names? How old are they?" Pete asked her anxiously.

Hesitantly, Amanda reached for her phone in her purse, which was hanging off of the back of her chair. She turned the screen toward her father, displaying a photo of Jesse holding the baby in her lap. "That's Jesse, she's four. Luca is seven months old."

"They're beautiful, Mandy," he whispered reverently. "I'd love to meet them. And your husband."

"Thanks." She put her phone away and ignored the last part of his statement. "Where have you been living, exactly?"

"Atlanta, mostly. But I've got a couple places," her father explained.

She raised her eyebrows over her glass, curious. Twenty-five years ago, he could barely afford the rent on a mobile home. She was afraid of the answer, but she asked anyway, "what have you been doing?"

His chest puffed out, appearing proud. "I'm a professional sports gambler."

She choked on a mouthful of wine. "A _what?_ "

"A professional sports gambler. For the past five years, at least. I identify patterns, locate edges and develop models and algorithms to beat the books-"

"I know what sports gambling is."

"Of course you do. Well, that's what I do."

Amanda set her glass down and looked her father in the eye. "Your gambling ruined our life."

He cringed. "I know. I know things were rough-"

"You could say that."

"But look how good you turned out. And it all paid off - I've made millions, Mandy."

She had to have misheard him. " _Millions?_ "

He nodded. "Not right away, of course. But my first big win... it set me up for a lot more. I've been on ESPN, sports podcasts, worked with betting websites..." Pete told her eagerly. "You're sharp as a tack, Amanda. Always have been. You'd do well in this world. You could win big, too, if you wanted."

"Gamblin' and me... we don't get along," Amanda said vaguely, still trying to absorb the fact that her estranged father was a millionaire off a vice that nearly destroyed them both.

Pete looked confused. "What, because of what I did? That was my issue, I-"

"No. _My_ gambling. I got in a lot of trouble," she interrupted. She felt weirdly embarrassed telling him that.

"I didn't know..."

"How could you? You fell off the face of the earth for twenty-five years."

"You just gotta learn how to control it, Mandy. It's all about balance. Look at me now - things were rough for awhile but now, now it's a job."

His words flew in the face of everything that was taught in Gambler's Anonymous, and as shameful as it was, Amanda found herself jealous. How did she end up thousands of dollars in debt, white-knuckling it through her job and relationships, while her father had profited so immensely? She chewed the inside of her cheek, struggling to keep from asking for his advice. A dark part of her wanted access to his tips and tricks, because maybe he was right, maybe she had gone about it the wrong way and it could be different this time...

Instead, she reminded him, "you couldn't control it when I was a kid."

"No, you're right, I couldn't," he admitted. "But that was small time stuff. Something to pass the time. I stuck with it and now I'm here."

He wasn't getting it. He thought his success negated his behavior in the past, how terribly he had treated her mother and how dismissive he had been of his children. "Why did you disappear? Why did you wait so long to see me?" Amanda asked him desperately. His lifestyle was seductive, but it wasn't enough to deter her from getting the answers she had yearned for for years.

"Once I left your mother, I... struggled," Pete told her quietly, looking uncomfortable. "I wasn't anything either of you girls would be proud of."

"We wouldn't have cared," she insisted truthfully. "You missed everything. Mama's a disaster. Kim... she had it rough."

He met her gaze. "And you?"

Amanda shrugged. "I made it through."

"It's just... sometimes you're so far into something it makes it harder to come back from it the longer and longer you wait. I know what I did, how badly I messed up. I still think about it. After I left, I lived in motels and on friends' couches. It was touch and go for awhile," he explained weakly. "But now at least I have something to show for it all."

She sighed. Nothing about this conversation felt as satisfying as she used to imagine it would. "Have you talked to Kim?"

"No." He shook his head solemnly. "I don't know how to get in touch with her."

"She lives here now."

"Really? How's she doin'?"

"She's on parole."

" _Parole?_ "

"Yeah, parole. I told you, you've missed a lot," Amanda said sharply. "But she's doing really well and I don't want you messin' that up for her."

"I'm not tryin' to mess up anything, Mandy," her father promised her.

Amanda desperately wanted to believe him. At the same time she wanted to scream at him, to throw her wine glass across the table, too. Conflict brewed in her chest, dark and threatening, and she only hoped that she could muster the energy to navigate yet another storm.

* * *

The apartment was dark when Amanda returned home.

"Hey, girl," she whispered to Frannie, who greeted her enthusiastically at the door. She tip toed through the living room, the baby sleeping in his crib and Jesse's bedroom door shut. She walked to her own room and slipped inside quietly.

Sonny was stretched out on the bed watching the 9:10 Mets game, limbs long and lazy, but sat up when she entered. "How was it?" he asked her eagerly.

"Weird." Hovering by the dresser, she pulled off her earrings as she toed off her shoes.

He looked at her pointedly. "You're really paintin' a picture for me here," he remarked sarcastically.

"He's a millionaire," she told him bluntly, tying her hair back into a messy bun with the elastic from her wrist.

"Huh?"

"He's made millions."

"Doin' what?!"

She started unbuttoning the mint green blouse she was wearing and met his eyes. "Gambling."

"Are you kiddin' me?"

"Nope."

"Did he come all the way to New York to tell you that?"

"I'm not really sure. He wants to meet you and the kids."

He watched her thoughtfully. "How are you feelin' about it all?"

Amanda let the gauzy fabric of her shirt slide off of her shoulders. She rubbed at her forehead and sighed. She didn't have an answer to his question; everything inside of her felt jumbled. "Confused."

The look on Sonny's face let her know that he could sense that she wasn't up for a discussion just yet. It was too fresh; neither her brain nor her heart had processed it. "Well... you look nice," he offered.

Amanda smiled and tossed her balled-up blouse at Sonny, who caught it in one hand. "I'm shirtless."

He grinned. "That doesn't change the compliment."

She shook her head as if exasperated. Sonny was nothing if not consistent, and now more than ever, she appreciated that immensely. He always made her feel adored, even when she knew she looked like hell. His affection never faltered. She walked over to the side of the bed and leaned in, taking his chin playfully between her fingers. "The day you stop tellin' me I look nice is the day I know something's seriously wrong."

His blue eyes twinkled with amusement. "I'm always gonna tell you that."

Her lips brushed over his. "Promise?"

Grinning, he grabbed her by the waist and pulled her downward until her back bounced against the mattress with a laugh. "I promise," Sonny told her, his body hovering over hers.

Beneath him, Amanda reached up and brushed a stray curl of hair away from his forehead. "Thanks."

Sonny lazily let his weight rest half on top of her, settling his cheek against her bare sternum. The stubble on his face scratched pleasantly against soft skin. One of Amanda's hands gently found its way to his jaw, the other along his upper back. She closed her eyes, relaxed by the warmth of his form.

"I've been thinkin'."

"Don't hurt yourself," she murmured, smirking slightly with her eyes still closed.

"Very funny." Long fingers crept up the comforter, toying with the lace at the side of her bra. "This stuff with your dad... it got me thinkin' about the A.D.A. job."

She shivered at his touch and her thumb grazed the top of his cheek bone. "How do you mean?"

"He missed your whole life. Most of it, anyway. And like, not to be dramatic or anything, 'cause it's not the same... but I don't wanna miss what's goin' on with the kids 'cause I'm working eighty hours a week."

"Mhm..."

"It's different now, y'know?" Sonny continued, as she anticipated he would. "A few years ago I wouldn't have cared. But now, now we've got a lot of stuff goin' on. What if we have another kid?"

She opened one eye then the other. "Not anytime soon."

"Well, no, we don't have anywhere to put one. My point is, what's really important here?"

"You're gettin' ahead of yourself. Why don't you see if they call you back first? See what they offer you," Amanda said diplomatically. "Don't write it off just yet."

Sonny lifted his head and eyed her suspiciously. "You're bein' very..."

"Very...?"

"Relaxed about this."

Amanda shrugged and told him honestly, "I want you to be happy."

"I am happy."

"I know. But this is important to you. I don't want you to get resentful 'cause you never explored it."

Propping himself up with his forearms, he kissed her, then laid his head back down against her chest. He didn't say anything else and neither did she, but Amanda was grateful for Sonny's presence. As unpredictable as her life had been, he had spent years helping her navigate even the ugliest of obstacles. Without him, she wasn't sure where she would be. She never wanted to find out.

* * *

 **AN:** Don't worry, guys, I haven't forgotten about our pal Declan. ;-)


	6. Chapter 6

"You're hovering," Sonny observed, spatula in hand.

Almost on top of him in the kitchen, Amanda denied it. "No, I'm not."

"Yeah, you are," he chuckled. "I know because nobody hovers more than me."

She couldn't argue there.

Disgruntled, Amanda dropped down onto one of the bar stools that lined the counter, the baby sitting in her lap. She watched Sonny move around the kitchen, making dinner, then she settled a cheek atop Luca's head. She was anxious: her father was coming over. Amanda wasn't sure what she had been thinking, inviting her father to her home like he hadn't been absent from the majority of her existence. She could have cut off contact with him after their meal together a few days prior and she would have been justified, but underneath her calloused exterior was the wide-eyed little girl who had idolized her dad. Over the few days the she had been aware of his return, Amanda felt tortured by her own internal conflict: she was so angry but still desperate for his approval, for him to have a role in her life. She wasn't even sure he _deserved_ to know her, but nevertheless, Amanda felt compelled to give him a chance anyway.

Sonny glanced over his shoulder at her. "Relax, would you?"

"I'm trying," she insisted briskly. Luca grabbed for a stack of napkins and she tugged it from his hands, which were a lot stronger than they looked. "I'm fine."

"There's nothin' to be nervous about," he told her. "He's the one who should be tryin' to impress you."

Amanda sighed. "I know. It's just weird. Why does weird shit always have to happen to me?"

"That's a bad word!" Jesse yelled from the living room, where she was coloring at the coffee table.

"I'm an adult. Sometimes adults are allowed to stay bad stuff," she assured her daughter quickly.

"Your family does have a lot of sh- stuff, I'll give ya that," Sonny agreed with a smirk.

"They're yours now too, so, enjoy," Amanda muttered.

When the doorbell buzzed, Sonny immediately held out a hand. "I'll get it."

From her seat, she leaned back and eyed him at the door. At first she couldn't see her father, just Sonny sticking out his hand in his usual personable manner. "Hi. Dominick Carisi. Nice to you meet you."

Amanda stood up and smiled as the two men exchanged introductions. For the millionth time, she was so intensely grateful for Sonny, who was unconditionally kind.

"There she is," her father observed with a wide, approving smile at the sight of his daughter.

He went to hug her and she didn't stop him; he smelled like cigars and good cologne. "This is Luca," Amanda said, gesturing down to the little human between them.

"Wow, look at him. What a handsome kid," Pete exclaimed, wide-eyed, taking the baby's small hand in his giant one.

As if on cue, Jesse came to Amanda's side, clinging curiously to her mother's leg. Amanda added, "and this is Jesse."

Pete took his adoring gaze off of Luca to crouch down to the four-year-old's level. "Hey there, Jesse. I'm so glad to meet you."

"Hi," Jesse responded curiously.

"She beautiful. Looks just like you when you were a little girl," her father told Amanda before straightening up again.

"I'm not little," Jesse insisted, breaking away from her mother's side, suddenly emboldened.

Her father smiled. "Acts just like you, too."

"She's definitely not shy," Sonny agreed, then offered, "y'want some wine?"

With her free hand, Amanda grabbed her own glass, which Sonny had already filled generously with chianti. She took a sip as she watched her father and Sonny talk over the wine bottle; it was surreal.

"So, Mandy tells me you're a detective _and_ a lawyer," Pete said, glass in hand.

Sonny leaned back against the counter, hands in his pockets, appearing sheepish. "Yeah, kind of. Well, not kind of. I'm just not praticin' as a lawyer."

Pete raised his eyebrows. "No? It's a very lucrative career."

"Not the kinda law I'm interested in, unfortunately," Sonny answered.

"Ah, civil servitude." Her father took a sip of his wine and cast his eyes around their apartment. "Nice place you two got here... but where do y'all fit?"

Amanda bit the inside of her cheek. Without missing a beat, Sonny answered for her: "we make it work."

"'Course you do. Mandy's lived in smaller places than this." Pete gave his daughter a clap on the shoulder. "Remember that old trailer on Forge Street? You and Kim shared a bunk while your mama and me had a futon. It was pretty cozy."

"Yeah, daddy. I remember," she murmured. He was reflecting on the memory as if it had been pleasant and it definitely had not been. Amanda had never taken Sonny or the kids to Loganville and she had absolutely no plans to, ever. Of course Sonny knew about her upbringing, but she was still embarrassed - especially when she compared it to his own. Georgia was in her past; there was nothing for her or her family there.

Sonny crossed his arms loosely over his chest and eyed her father. "So, what brings you around?"

"I was down at the track in Saratoga for a few days," Pete answered casually.

"So you just decided to swing down to the city and see your daughter after twenty-five years?" Sonny asked in his familiar, blunt way, as if he was trying to build a rapport with a suspect.

The baby was tugging at Amanda's long hair, gurgling contentedly. Her eyes flickered to him, using her son as a distraction from a potentially awkward discussion.

"Ah, that'a a fair question," Pete resigned. "I didn't want it to be another twenty-five years. I mean, I'm old. I only got so many years left. I was lettin' my pride keep me from makin' things right all this time. I regret that now, especially seein' that I've got grandkids..."

Sonny gave a little nod of his head, apparently satisfied with Pete' answer. "How long you here for?"

Pete looked over at his oldest daughter. "I'd like to stay in town for a little while, if the girls'll have me."

Despite her lingering doubts, Amanda felt herself smile.

* * *

Amanda knocked on the door of Kim's sober house on her lunch break.

A heavily tattooed young woman answered. She eyed the badge on Amanda's hip and fidgeted in her spot. "Can I help you?"

"Yeah, I'm here to see Kim Rollins. I'm her sister," Amanda explained.

The woman looked relieved. "Oh, yeah, she's in her room. Second door on the left."

She headed down the hallway, then tapped on the door of Kim's room. She found her sister reading a magazine in bed, headphones in her ears.

"'Manda, what are you doin' here?" she exclaimed, yanking the white cords attached to her earbuds.

"We gotta talk," Amanda told her flatly.

Kim scrunched up her face. "About what? 'Cause I yelled at you? That was nothin'."

"No, we can discuss your tantrum later," she said dryly. "This is different."

"Okay - what?"

She sat on the edge of the bed. "Daddy found me."

Kim appeared understandably confused. "Huh?"

"Daddy is here. In New York," Amanda told her slowly.

"Are you kiddin' me? What's he doin'? What does he want? Why didn't he find me?" she blurted, eyes wide with shock.

"He's... a professional gambler," Amanda said carefully. "And he didn't know how to find you."

"Ha! Really? Are you jealous?" Kim's eyes shone with a kind of maliciousness Amanda hadn't seen in awhile.

She tried to keep her facial expression benign. "No."

"He found you because you were always his favorite and you know it."

"No, Kim, I really think-"

"Whatever, 'Manda, I don't wanna see him anyway."

"You don't?"

"No! If he wanted to see me that bad, he woulda found me."

"I told you, he didn't know how. He wants to take us both to dinner tomorrow night."

"God, Amanda, you're sucha sucker," Kim laughed crassly. "You're like the ice queen all the time but your father can disappear on you and come back twenty years later and you're his sweet little girl, no questions asked."

"Trust me, Kim, I've asked questions-"

"I'm not goin'. Keep him all to yourself."

"Look, I know you're pissed off at me because of the apartment thing, but I don't want you to regret this. Just think about it."

She pouted immaturely. "No."

Amanda heaved a frustrated sigh and stood up. "Fine, Kim."

The two sisters stared at one another another until Amanda gave up and left. Emotionally depleted, she didn't have the energy to convince Kim of something she wasn't all that sure of herself.

* * *

"Wow, you look great."

Amanda put her earrings on in the mirror and eyed Sonny's reflection behind her. She smiled. "Thank you."

She wore a simple, tailored black dress with cap sleeves, the A-line hem landing just above the knee. She accessorized with ankle-strap black pumps and her usual necklace, her hair styled straight and smooth. It was nothing too fancy, but given that her father only dined in four and five star restaurants these days, Amanda figured she might as well put a little more effort in her appearance. Earlier that day she had made one more attempt to convince her sister come out, too, but Kim was holding tight to her childish stance.

Sonny wrapped his arms around Amanda and kissed her jaw, her neck. Sh indulged him for a minute, enjoying it, tilting her head to the side to expose more of her skin to his mouth. She felt his hands wander up the bodice of her dress, shamelessly and confidently groping her curves.

She caught his lips in a kiss while her fingers curled around his to pause his movement. "Later," she murmured. She didn't get dressed and do her hair just to have to assemble herself all over again in twenty minutes.

He groaned and released his embrace around her. "What time are you gonna be home?"

"Not too late. I promise," Amanda assured him, turning around and kissing him again. "I'll bring you back dessert."

Mischief lighting up his features, he gave her ass a playful swat. "That's the only dessert I'm lookin' for."

She gave a yelp of laughter before raising a skeptical eyebrow. "I think we both know that isn't true."

"Okay, yeah, I'll take some cake, too."

"Thought so." Amanda's phone buzzed as she was tossing things into her purse. She looked down at the screen. "He's here. I won't be late, I swear," she told Sonny before pecking him on the lips again. "Love you."

"Love you, too." He followed her through the apartment as she said goodbye to Jesse and the baby, and with one more kiss, she was out the door.

Downstairs, her father was standing outside of a waiting black sedan. "Don't you look pretty," he observed.

"Thanks," Amanda said with a small smile.

Pete opened the door for her, motioning for her to get inside of the dark car. When he was beside her and the driver pulled away from the curb, Amanda eyed her father curiously in the back seat. "Where are we goin'?"

"Prime Steakhouse. Just gotta make a quick stop first," her father explained.

"A stop?"

"I just wanna swing by World casino in Queens."

She shifted uncomfortably. "Uh, I really don't think-"

"Don't worry, we won't stay long," Pete assured her. "I just wanna pick up my win-loss statement and say thank you to the manager for their hospitality."

Amanda chewed on her thumb nail anxiously.

Maybe she could wait in the car.

Years ago, when she was gambling, she didn't go to big casinos. She didn't want to be seen. She stuck to underground clubs or sports betting unless she drove far enough upstate that she felt comfortable that there was little risk of being discovered. Amanda tried to avoid bookies she owed money to and her peers from Gambler's Anonymous, too, which meant her every move had to be calculated. It had been a full-time job trying to get her fix.

She should have waited in the car, but she didn't.

Amanda followed her father inside the massive complex, her heart racing and palms beginning to sweat. She had no business being there but she told herself it didn't matter, that it was irrelevant if she wasn't playing. It had been five years since she had placed her last bet. She could handle simply being inside a casino; she was stronger now. She was different.

Everything was shining beneath bright, colorful lights. Amanda heard the shuffle of cards, the siren song of the slot machines, the gamblers laughing and strategizing around tables. People moved around her with hands full of chips and eyes wide with anticipation, knowing _somebody_ had to win, and maybe it would be them. It smelled like smoke but it was made palatable by perfumed air drifting from vents. There were no windows and no clocks.

It was isolation, an escape, another planet entirely.

Amanda didn't want to leave.


	7. Chapter 7

**AN:** Shorter one tonight, guys! Enjoy your Sunday!

* * *

"C'mon, one hand won't kill ya."

It was alarming how little convincing it took before Amanda was seated at a table, whiskey neat in one hand and cigarette in the other, eyes narrow and calculated on the cards laid out by the dealer before her. Five years of abstinence hadn't squashed her love for gambling, only muted it temporarily, and in a sick way she felt at peace in that unfamiliar casino. In her head there was a nagging, desperate voice struggling to scream logic louder than the boisterous allure of a win, but once Amanda entered the High Limit room, it never stood a chance.

It wasn't her money. That's how Amanda justified it: if her father fronted the cash, her gambling didn't count. Pete Rollins treated his daughter like she was a little kid in an arcade, pressing money into her palm and shooing her away, encouraging her to have a good time. She didn't have to take it, but she did. As an intelligent adult, there were other options. She could have left, or picked up the phone, or confessed to her father about how deep of a hole she had dug herself into five short years ago. There were so many choices, but with temptation closing in around her, Amanda felt helpless to resist.

The chance to win wasn't the only draw of gambling: she loved the escape. Years ago, Amanda had so much more to run from. She used to crave the dark, smoky rooms where she could shamelessly chase her high; playing transported her so blissfully far away from SVU and her chaotic relationships. Things were different now, but the cards in her hands didn't allow her to consider all she stood to lose. It wasn't the money that was at stake, not really. She forgot who she was without the blackjack table - a wife, a mother, a cop - and was reduced to the very worst parts of herself. Selfish, cunning, obsessive - she still possessed those character defects, despite all of the work she had done to dull their sharp edges. Her addiction, once dormant, now seeped through her veins like poison. It colored everything: Amanda didn't care what time it was, how she had promised Sonny that she would be home early, how she would never, ever want her children to see her this way. She didn't even care that her custody battle with Declan loomed, and that he was undoubtedly waiting to secure evidence that would prove she was unfit to care for Jesse.

All of it was distant, hazy, irrelevant. The room was busy but in Amanda's mind, she was alone with the dealer. He smiled at her, she smiled at him, and she felt powerful.

She won.

In three hours of blackjack, Amanda pocketed five thousand dollars.

She felt nauseated with excitement and guilt as she turned in her earnings slip. She had won more than that in the past, but it had been awhile: she could have went home with a hundred dollars that night and it still would have made her pulse pound. Her father squeezed her shoulders and beamed proudly. In the car ride back, he babbled excitedly about technique and statistics, how he had always known that she was a winner. It was sad, pathetic even, but Amanda swelled up at his praise. When they pulled up to her apartment, however, her stomach twisted into a heavy knot. The very worst part of active addiction would begin the second she crossed the threshold: she would have to lie to the people she loved.

It was three in the morning. Amanda gingerly took off her heels in the hallway and carefully put her key in the lock of the front door. Slipping into the apartment, she tip-toed into the dark kitchen. She set her shoes on the counter top and dug through her purse until her fingers curled around the neat wad of cash she had left the casino with. There was no way she could put it in the bank; Sonny would see the large sum and become immediately suspicious. Amanda cracked open the freezer and cautiously moved boxes and containers around until she was able to nestle the money into a back corner, then arranged everything to conceal it.

Shoes dangling from her hand again, Amanda moved quietly through the living room. Given the hour, the baby was sleeping and so was Jesse. Pulling in a deep breath, she carefully cracked open her bedroom door, wincing a bit as it creaked. Sonny was asleep on his stomach, long arms curled beneath his pillow, the rumpled comforter only covering half of his lanky frame. Frannie was laying down on Amanda's side of the bed. Neither of them moved and she crept in undetected.

She started peeling off her dress in the dark and left it in a pool on the floor. She changed into track shorts and a t-shirt before soundlessly padding into the bathroom and closing the door behind her. Flipping on the light, Amanda gazed at herself in the mirror: her make-up was still on, hair still done, but without the rest of her outfit she looked as conflicted as she felt.

She had made a terrible mistake.

But she had won.

Amanda washed her face with ice cold water. She felt jittery, high off of her victory but afraid of what had been reignited inside of her. The obsession was starting again. A seductive, disembodied voice promised her that it was going to be different now. Regret was dulled by the fact that she had returned home a winner; that's what made gambling so dangerous for Amanda. Her successes egged her on, encouraged her to take bigger and bigger risks until her sickness eventually ate her alive.

That couldn't happen this time.

It wouldn't.

Back in the bedroom, she ousted Frannie from her spot and slipped beneath the sheets as gently as possible. Resting on her side, she hugged the blankets tight around her body. When she closed her eyes, all she saw was the shuffle of cards and the slide of chips across dark green fabric. Moments later, she felt the mattress shift as Sonny rolled over. His arm went around her, his warm, bare chest pressed against her back. Amanda's body stiffened in response, afraid he could sense what she had done, ashamed that she had betrayed his trust.

"What time is it?" he mumbled sleepily into her hair.

"Late," she whispered.

Sonny yawned and moved a little. "You smell like smoke."

"My dad smokes," Amanda explained quietly. "I didn't mean to wake you up. I'm sorry."

She wished that was all she was sorry for.

* * *

She barely slept at all. At six thirty in the morning, sun streamed through the blinds, bathing the bedroom in light. Both children were still asleep; the apartment was quiet. Sonny's hands sleepily wandered over Amanda's body, sensing that she was awake, taking advantage of an opportunity. She gave in, both of them moving slow, warm and lazy until their bodies wouldn't allow for a languid pace any longer. Above her, Sonny's forearms rested against the mattress while his palms pressed into hers, their fingers entwined tightly on either side of Amanda's head. Even as she rolled her hips up to meet his and murmured his name, urging him, wanting him, she couldn't manage to look him in the eye.

Savoring the chance to laze around in the afterglow, Amanda laid on her back, an arm bent above her head. Sonny rested on his side, head propped up in hand, a free set of fingers drawing absent patterns against her bare torso. He traced a circle around her naval, drifted up her sternum, then grazed the curves of her breasts. She smiled up at the ceiling at the sensation.

"You have a nice time last night?" he asked her curiously.

Her stomach clenched. "Yeah."

"Where'd you guys go?"

"Just this steak place in TriBeCa."

"You were gone for awhile."

"Yeah... I just lost track of time. We were talkin' and stuff," Amanda lied.

Sonny raised an eyebrow. "I'm kinda surprised."

"By what?" She was nervous about the direction the conversation was headed in.

He shrugged then laid a big palm against the flat plane of her abdomen, his thumb moving back and forth lazily. "You're sorta just... hangin' out with him like he hasn't been missin' for twenty-five years."

She exhaled. "I thought you thought I should give him a chance."

"I did. I do," he insisted.

"Okay, well... I don't know how to navigate this, Sonny. There's no protocol for reuniting with your absent father. You have a better idea?" There was an edge to her voice that was unfair, because as usual, she knew that Sonny was only trying to look out for her. And, as usual, she was taking that for granted.

"No. That's not it. I think it's good, you guys gettin' to know one another," Sonny told her gently. "Just be careful."

"He isn't a bad guy," she mumbled. She had spent almost her entire life clinging to that belief.

"I didn't say he was, 'Manda. I just don't wanna see you get hurt if he doesn't stick around or follow through," he replied levelly. "Any guy who up and leaves his family for years maybe has some issues of his own to sort out, y'know?"

She bit the inside of her lower lip to keep her cruel retort safely behind her teeth. One night of gambling had sent her sliding backwards, back to the irritable, passive-aggressive woman who rejected anybody who dared to prod beyond her cold exterior. That scared her.

"I'm thirty-six years old. I can handle it," she told him quietly instead.

Sonny nodded slowly. "'Course you can."


	8. Chapter 8

On a quiet Sunday evening, Amanda sat on the living room floor. Luca was on his back beneath his colorful activity gym, little animals dangling above him, just in reach of his curious fingers. Declan had taken Jesse for ice cream and wasn't due back for a few more hours. These days, Jesse went with him fairly willingly, although it was usually because Declan was enticing the little girl with something special. Amanda kept her interactions with him short and to-the-point; they had nothing to discuss beyond what she was legally bound to do.

It had been days since she had been to the casino and she thought about it constantly. The money she had won remained in the freezer, but it's mere presence taunted her. Sometimes she had to step outside and pull fresh air into her lungs to keep herself grounded in the present. She found no solace in sleep: when she closed her eyes at night, she fantasized about card combinations. Her father was still in the city - he had managed to find Kim and unsurprisingly, she forgot her grudge when she saw his money. Amanda wanted to go gambling with him again. Usually she preferred to play alone, but he had the boundless resources she craved. She spent an abnormal amount of time trying to figure out how to convince him to front her cash, strategizing like he was just another game to beat. Really, she was no better than her scheming little sister.

"That's a giraffe," Amanda told Luca, who was tugging on the stuffed animal happily. "They're very tall."

He made sweet, incoherent noises of approval.

The front door opened and Sonny appeared, sweaty and pink-cheeked from the gym.

"Daddy's home!" she announced to the baby cheerfully.

"Hey," Sonny called to her.

"Hey. How was the gym?" Amanda asked, now making an elephant swing around and watching the baby's delighted reaction. The toy rattled, its stomach filled with multi-colored plastic beads.

"Eh, fine." She heard Sonny begin to move around the kitchen.

Luca giggled at the creatures above him. Amanda smiled, gazing at him adoringly. She was positive that there was nothing on earth that a baby's laugh couldn't fix - at least temporarily. His blue eyes were big, arms and legs flailing excitedly at the simple stimulation. She couldn't resist: she picked up his chubby bare feet and kissed them, tickling him, inciting more laughter from the baby. Sometimes she couldn't believe that she had never wanted children; in these moments, she would have had ten.

Something landed on the carpet beside her with a 'thud.' Releasing Luca's feet, she sat up straighter to see a wad of money on the floor. Amanda froze, panic rising in her throat. _Shit._

"Wanna tell me what that's doin' in our freezer?" Sonny asked her flatly.

Tentatively, Amanda reached out for the cash, fingers curling around the cold paper as she dragged it closer to her. She looked up through her bangs at Sonny, who had his arms crossed over his chest. "Um..."

"Where'd it come from?" he demanded.

"My dad gave it to me," she told him, which wasn't a total lie.

He looked skeptical, angry. "Your father gave you thousands in cash and you hid it in the freezer?"

"Yeah," she insisted.

"So if I called him right now, he'd tell me that? He'd tell me he gave you money?" His features were hard and sharp as he eyed her.

She cleared her throat and shifted in her spot. She felt like she was outside of herself; she couldn't possibly be lying so blatantly to somebody she loved so much, could she? "Yeah, he would."

Sonny wasn't going to let her off that easily. "And what's it doin' in the freezer?"

"I wanted it to be safe until I could put it in the bank," Amanda explained smoothly. "I was gonna tell you..."

Visibly frustrated, he turned away from her, fingers scraping though his hair. "God, you are lyin' right to my face, Amanda."

"Call him!" she dared him boldly, heart rate increasing. Of course he didn't believe her - she didn't deserve his trust. "If you don't trust me, call him."

When he looked back at her, his blue-gray eyes were narrowed. Moving with one long stride, Sonny snatched her phone up from where it sat on the kitchen counter. "Okay, fine."

A tense minute passed while Amanda weighed her options. Of course Sonny would actually call her father - he was fearless. Pete would tell him the truth: that his daughter had played blackjack one night and had come out victorious. She couldn't let her father be the one to confess her sins to her own husband. Frantic, Amanda scrambled to her feet with the money in her fist and blurted, "wait! Don't."

Sonny's thumb hovered over the screen before he set it back down on the counter. He crossed his arms over his chest again. "I'm listening."

She shifted her weight from one foot to another and swallowed. For a split second, she entertained the idea of Sonny being excited that she had won. "I won it."

A shadow crossed his face. "Excuse me?"

"I won the money."

"How?"

"At the casino..."

She watched shock and anger flash across his features; he was the furthest thing from excited. "What the hell were you doin' in a casino? You're gamblin' again?" he demanded loudly, his eyes wide with bewilderment.

Amanda flinched. "My dad-"

"Give it to me," Sonny interrupted her, shaking his head.

Her brow furrowed. "What?"

"Give me the money."

"What? Why?"

"Because you aren't keepin' it." He tried to tug it from her but her grip was tight, possessive.

"Sonny! I won it! It's mine!" she exclaimed, yanking her hand away from his and stepping backward.

"You think I'm an idiot? I know how this works, 'Manda. I'm not lettin' you take this money just to dig us further into debt."

"I'm not gonna lose it all! I could win-"

"No, Amanda. Give it to me."

"Okay, okay. I'm not gonna gamble with it. I'm not gambling! It was one time," she babbled insincerely, voice high-pitched and desperate. "I'll put it in the bank and we-"

"Give me the fucking money," he ordered, getting angrier at her passionate defense of her behavior.

Amanda couldn't remember the last time she had seen him this mad. It occurred to her that maybe she never had. For some reason, that pissed her off. She clenched her jaw. "No."

Sonny grabbed at her hand and attempted to pry her fingers open. Like a toddler mid-tantrum, she fought him, squeezing her hand around the money like it was the only thing keeping her afloat. She tried to use her free fingers to fend off his, but he grabbed her wrist, stopping her.

"Let me go!" she shrieked, writhing around in his grasp, wild-eyed. Frannie barked at her heels.

"Amanda, you're bein' totally ridiculous," he told her loudly through gritted teeth.

He was too strong: eventually the force of their scuffle sent the money falling from her fingers to the floor. Sonny snatched it up instantly. He took a step back, his chest rising and falling quickly. He stared at Amanda like he was scared of her.

Amanda's hands clenched into fists at her sides as she watched him. She was burning hot with rage. In that moment, she resented Sonny. She wanted to be left alone with her demons, even though the past had taught her that they would never nurture her the way she nurtured them.

"Fine, keep it," she spat. "I could double it, you know, and we could use it. I'm so fucking tired of not having money. At this rate, we're gonna be in this stupid apartment forever, you know that? 'Cause you had to go to _law school_ for _a hundred and fifty grand._ For what, Sonny, huh? So you could feel smarter than everybody else? Look where that fuckin' got you." The second she shouted the words, she snapped her mouth shut, horrified by her own callousness.

Sonny flinched, hurt, before his features turned to stone.

She had said a lot of nasty things to people in the past, but this was quite possibly her worst offense. This was inexcusable. She didn't mean it, but even in her frenzied state she knew that there was no convincing Sonny of that now.

Amanda couldn't bear to stand there in the wake of her cruelty any longer. She grabbed her purse off of the counter and left, taking the very worst version of herself with her.

* * *

It was a warm night in Long Island City.

She walked down the sidewalk with no particular destination, but with her arms crossed tightly across her chest Amanda barreled ahead like she was on some kind of mission. Eventually she paused briefly to dig through her purse for a cigarette, lighting it up with shaky hands. She pulled nicotine into her lungs and held it for a moment before exhaling a cloud of smoke. It did not make her feel better.

Tears started to blur Amanda's vision. She was scared. That ruthless, sharp-tongued person who lied and manipulated - she knew her all too well. She used to reflect back on her and cringe, disappointed in that woman's behavior, grateful that she was somebody new. She thought she had banished her for good, but now she was clawing her way back out from the depths of Amanda's mind with a renewed vigor. _If I can't have you, no one else can!_ her addiction screamed. _Not your husband, not your children, not even your dog._

It was like being possessed. There was only one place for somebody that awful, somebody that distorted.

She took a cab to the casino.

At the ATM in the lobby, Amanda withdrew a hundred dollars. The bills sat crisp and new in her hand. _When this is gone, I'll leave,_ she promised herself.

She said that nine more times.

She lost a thousand dollars.

It only took two hours. Pulse pounding with dread, she stumbled away from the blackjack table to the expansive deck that jutted out from the High Limit room. Amanda's hands gripped the railing and she closed her eyes. _Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck_ , she thought frantically. _What am I gonna do?_ She could go back inside and play again in hopes of recouping what she had lost, but there was only two hundred dollars left in her bank account. That didn't allow for much error. She could take out a cash advance on her credit card...

"Excuse me, do you have a lighter?"

A male voice interrupted her panicked thought process. Opening her eyes, Amanda saw a tall man hovering at her side. He was handsome and well-dressed, with chiseled features and dark brown eyes, his hair swept back away from his face. He appeared older than her, but probably not by much.

"Uh, yeah. I do." Amanda rifled through her purse and handed over a cheap red Bic.

"Thanks." He pulled a package of cigarettes from his back pocket. Opening the carton, he asked, "want one?"

"Sure." With careful fingers, she took a cigarette from his. He politely lit it for her before handing back her lighter.

"Rough night?" the stranger asked curiously.

She exhaled smoke, eyes on the New York skyline in front of her. "You could say that."

"You lose much?"

She fiddled with her rings and mumbled, "depends on your definition of 'much.'"

Out of the corner of her eye, Amanda watched him flick ashes over the railing, his gaze intently focused on her profile. "You here with your husband?"

She gave a little snort of crass laughter. "God, no. He thinks gambling is pointless."

"And you don't," he concluded.

"I'm here, aren't I?" she responded irritably, turning to give him her iciest glare. She was not in the mood for pleasantries, as all of this was actually quite _un_ pleasant.

He nodded, unfazed. "Got any kids?"

She gritted her teeth. She did not want to talk about her children here. It felt wrong, dirty; they were so innocent and good, the exact opposite of the kind of person gambling made their mother. A lump rising in her throat, she roughly squashed the ember of her cigarette into the railing.

"Thanks for the smoke. I've gotta go," Amanda told the stranger, already heading for the door.

* * *

The apartment was quiet when she finally returned home. There were dishes in the sink from dinner and fresh water in Frannie's bowl, indicating that Sonny had gone about the evening as if he hadn't had to wrestle money out of his crazy wife's fiending hands hours earlier. She crept through the living room, not wanting to disturb a sleeping Luca, then hovered outside Jesse's ajar door. Her light was still on. Sonny's long limbs took up most of the small bed, his back leaned against her white headboard as he slept. Jesse's favorite book, _Angelina Ballerina_ , was draped over his lap. The toddler was curled up at his side, thumb in her mouth, dark eyelashes fluttering atop pink cheeks.

Amanda covered her mouth with her hand, fingers tugging at her lips anxiously. Her heart ached, but the worst part was that her pain was self-inflicted. Overwhelmed with guilt and shame, she walked away and shut herself in the bathroom. She stripped of her clothes, the smell of smoke clinging to the fabric, and got in the shower. Beneath the stream of scalding hot water, she squeezed her eyes shut. She yearned to be outside of her body, to escape the chaos in her head. She didn't know how to communicate to people how torturous it was to be in the clutches of addiction. She didn't know how to explain the insanity of repeating the same stupid behaviors and each time, expecting a different result. She didn't know how to justify risking _everything she loved_ for a split second of meaningless power.

It was an illness devoid of reason. Gambling didn't make Amanda happy - it made her feel like she was _going_ to be happy fifteen or twenty minutes after her first bet. Except the happiness never came. Her addiction kept her existing for the unobtainable future, never the present.

Pieces of her were leaving. She could feel them, a dark, rapidly-growing void in their wake. If Amanda didn't stop now, she would soon find herself completely hollow.

* * *

Sonny entered the sprawling marble lobby of the W Hotel on Lexington Avenue. He approached the check-in desk.

"Hi. Can I help you?" the young girl behind the counter chirped.

"Yeah. Can you tell me what room Peter Rollins is in?" he asked quietly.

She looked uncomfortable. "I'm sorry, no. We can't give out-"

Wordlessly, he set his badge on the counter.

"Oh. Okay," she whispered nervously. She tapped on her keyboard and looked at her computer screen. "Uh... sixth floor. Suite six seventy-five."

"Thanks."

Badge back in his pocket, Sonny rode the elevator up to Pete Rollins' room. He knocked on the door and waited for Amanda's father to answer. When he did, the older man appeared surprised.

"Sonny! What are you doin' here?" Pete asked him curiously. A tie hung loosely around his neck, like he was getting ready to go out.

"Can I come in?" Sonny asked.

"Of course." Pete swung open the door to the spacious suite to allow Sonny to step inside.

Sonny pulled the neat stack of money out of his pocket. Meeting Pete's eyes, he briefly held the cash up between them, then tossed it onto the bed. "Don't take Amanda gambling again. Ever." His voice was stern. It was not a question or a suggestion.

"Huh?" Pete glanced at him, the bed, then back at Sonny.

"You mighta made a name for yourself gambling, but it ruined Amanda's life," Sonny explained firmly. "And I'll be damned if it's gonna mess up my family."

He chuckled. "She won five grand. That's a good thing, Sonny. What's the harm?"

"The harm is she's an addict. I don't know what you call what you're doin' so you can sleep peacefully at night, but when she gets started, she can't stop."

"With all due respect, Amanda's an adult and a tough one at that. She doesn't need somebody fightin' her battles."

" _With all due respect,_ I know your daughter better than you do," Sonny retorted brazenly. He took a step closer to him. Tone low and threatening, he continued, "so I'm tellin' you: don't do it again."

Pete put up both his hands, signaling surrender. "Alright, alright," he conceded irritably. "I've got it. She won't be doing any gamblin' with me."

With that, Sonny turned on his heel and left, slamming the door so forcefully that the 'crack' of the frame echoed all the way down the hall.


	9. Chapter 9

**AN:** Sorry guys, I know this isn't our favorite Amanda. But as we say in the world of addiction treatment: relapse is part of the disease. :-)

* * *

Ever since she started gambling again, Amanda couldn't sleep. It was either crippling guilt or anxiety that kept her awake, tossing and turning, hot and uncomfortable. There were dark circles under her eyes in the morning, made glaringly apparent by the institutional lighting in the SVU squad room. Notoriously sharp and organized, now Amanda forgot even the simplest of tasks, lost in the haze that occupied her brain. Worst of all, Sonny tip-toed around her as if he was afraid she might explode. Usually, he was close to her, almost always touching her somehow. Now, in bed, there was a gaping space between them. The fact that he was justified in his caution made Amanda sick to her stomach.

In the living room, she turned on the small table lamp by the couch. The warm glow was enough to see what she was doing, but not too bright to disturb the baby, who was sleeping soundly in his crib across the room. Quietly, Amanda opened the window and the screen, allowing warm air inside. With her bare legs bent up toward her chest, she draped an arm over the back of the couch, a lit cigarette dangling from her fingers that now rested on the window's ledge. The ashes drifted down to the courtyard five floors below.

With her free hand, her thumb swiped through her old sports betting websites on her phone. She had deleted her log-in information awhile ago but was tempted to make another account. Without one, she could only peruse forums and statistics as a guest, which annoyed her. Even so, the anxiety that had kept her awake was temporarily relieved as she lost herself in reading about other people's strategies, as if she was living vicariously through them.

"Are you smoking?"

Amanda snapped her head up. Sonny was standing in the threshold, brows knitted together in confusion. If taken out of context, he actually looked adorable: his hair stuck up in every direction and his lean form was clad in an gray old Staten Island precinct t-shirt and black basketball shorts. Under any other circumstance, she would have kissed his face and ruffled her hand against his head, then showed him just how grateful she was to be loved by him. Instead, Amanda quickly stamped out the end of her cigarette on the window sill and flicked the entire thing into the night air. "Um..."

Sonny slowly rubbed his jaw. He looked as tired as she did, but for a different reason. Approaching the couch, he sat next to her, although he didn't touch her.

"Why are you up?" she asked him carefully. She dropped her phone into her lap, the screen against her t-shirt.

"I can't sleep. Why are you up?" he answered her. There was no concern in his voice - just quiet suspicion.

"I can't either," she said.

Sonny rested a bare foot atop the coffee table and crossed his arms over his chest. Amanda studied his strong profile in the dim lighting.

"The rent check bounced," he stated flatly. His gaze flitted over to her, features steely. "When were you gonna tell me?"

 _Never, ideally,_ Amanda thought selfishly. Her fingers tugged at her bangs. That was the thing about being married: her vice was now his, too, whether he liked it or not. At least with Luca sleeping, he couldn't raise his voice. "I was going to take care of it." That was the truth, she just hadn't figured out how, exactly, she was going to do it.

"When I saw _ten_ different ATM withdrawals, I thought it had to be a mistake," Sonny explained wearily.

"It's not a mistake," she whispered, shame pooling in the pit of her stomach. "I'll ask my dad for the money this month, it'll be okay."

"It's not okay, Amanda," Sonny insisted, an angry edge to his tone. "What about this d'you think is okay?"

Her throat was dry from smoking; she swallowed hard. "I know it's bad. I know."

He turned his body to look at her. For a few minutes, he didn't say anything, just watched her. He searched her face helplessly, like he was anxious to find even a hint of an answer there. "Who is this person? I don't know this person," Sonny finally asked her weakly, gesturing to her. "And frankly, I don't _like_ this person."

 _I don't like her either._ Amanda crossed her arms tight over her chest and bit the inside of her cheek, trying to keep from crying. She could feel the tears burning her eyes and the way emotion tightened her chest and neck. Lately, she was always on the brink of hysteria. She kept her gaze focused out the window. She wished he would stop eyeing her so despondently; it was almost too much for her to bear.

"You were doin' so good. Everything was good, wasn't it?" he continued quietly. "I mean, I thought it was..."

He was taking her behavior personally and her heart squeezed with guilt. Amanda shook her head. "This isn't about you. Or us."

"Then what the hell is it about? How can this be happening again?" he demanded. There was no anger in Sonny's question, just desperation.

"You don't get it, Sonny, and you're never gonna get it," she whispered. "Half the time even I don't."

"Try. Try to explain," he urged her firmly. "You owe me that at least."

She shifted in her spot. "It makes me happy." Her words sounded hollow.

"It does?" Sonny appeared skeptical. "'Cause you look miserable."

She pulled in a deep breath. She didn't want to say any of this out loud; it would threaten her delusion that she didn't really have a problem. "It's not really about the money," she explained tentatively, finally looking over to meet Sonny's eyes. "I mean, I like the money. But... when I'm concentrating on gambling, I don't think about anything. It's an escape. All this shit with Declan and Jesse, Kim... my dad showing up... none of it matters. When I lose, or stop playing, all the problems come back." She shrugged. "It lets me be in control for a little while."

"That's the thing. You aren't in control, Amanda. It controls you," Sonny insisted, appearing exasperated.

"Not all the time..."

He shook his head. "You think it's about skill when it's all about chance."

She bridled at his insinuation. "I'm a good card player."

He looked at her with wide-eyed disbelief. She couldn't blame him: a part of her knew she sounded crazy. Sonny shifted a little closer to her. "What about all the other stuff you're good at, huh? You're a good mother, a good sister, a good detective. And you're good at bein' my best friend. Doesn't all that count for anything?"

Like a child, Amanda felt her lower lip begin to quiver. _You're good at being my best friend._ No, she was not. If anybody treated Amanda the way she had treated Sonny, she would have killed them by now. She bowed her head, blinking back more tears. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

"Tell me what I can do to help you. You gotta talk to me," he pleaded with her. "'Cause I don't get it. I know that I don't, but I'll do whatever I have to do to help you."

She brushed her tears away with tremulous fingers. When she looked up at Sonny, her eyes filled up again. He looked devastated, like he could cry, too, and it was in that moment that Amanda realized that not only did Sonny have to endure her vice, he had to endure her pain, too. She used to carry the burden of gambling alone - but she wasn't on her own anymore. She was dragging Sonny down with her.

"I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry," she croaked, then added pathetically, "I know I fucked up. Please don't hate me."

"I love you, Amanda. I could never hate you," he promised her earnestly.

She dropped her forehead to rest against her knees, overwhelmed. She had never felt _less_ lovable in her entire life. Amanda squeezed her eyes shut tightly like she was hoping the darkness would absorb her. The cushions on the couch shifted and she felt the warmth of Sonny's hand against her back. It was childish, but all she wanted was a hug. She probably didn't deserve one, but she lifted her head and inched closer to him anyway. His arms encompassed her, pulling her closer, and she buried her face in the soft fabric of his t-shirt. "I didn't mean what I said to you the other night," she choked. "I swear. I didn't mean it. You know that isn't who I really am."

She felt his face in her hair at the top of her head. "I know," he murmured.

Her fingers clung to his shirt like she was drowning. "I'm gonna fix it. I'll talk to my dad, I'll work OT-"

"I don't care about the money. I care about you," Sonny interrupted her gently.

Amanda brought her knees closer to her chest, as if she was trying to make herself as small as possible to melt into Sonny's side and disappear there. "I know you do."

"You gotta get on top of this, 'Manda," he whispered into her hair. "Not for me, not even for the kids. For you."

Wordlessly she nodded into his chest, suddenly craving recovery as desperately as she had been yearning to gamble.

* * *

Pete Rollins' pen moved fluidly over the 'pay to the order of' line of a check, filling in his oldest daughter's name. At the bottom, he scribbled his own signature with a flourish. He slid it across the surface of the table at a cafe where they sat having coffee.

"To make up for what you're short on with rent," her father explained.

Amanda looked down at the sum: two thousand dollars. The dark, addicted part of her was tempted to cash it as she entertained a split-second fantasy about taking the money to the blackjack table. She had to screw her eyes shut to force the thought from her head, reminding herself that her father was saving her from one consequence, but there were so many more to be had if she didn't put a stop to her destructive pattern now. Careful fingertips picked up the thin piece of paper and folded it in half, tucking it into her purse. "Thanks, daddy," she mumbled, embarrassed.

Pete leaned forward, hands clasped loosely on the table. "You shoulda told me what a problem gambling was for you."

She frowned. "I tried to..."

"Not hard enough." His eyes searched his daughter's face before he asked quietly, "is this my fault? Kim's an addict, you're an addict... did I do this?"

"I used to blame you. Now I don't," Amanda confessed. For once, that was the truth.

Pete sighed. "You were always a tough kid, Mandy. When I left all those years ago, I thought you'd be okay."

"Really? You thought a ten year old would be just fine? That it would never impact me at all?" she asked skeptically.

He nodded, looking somber. "Maybe that's just what I told myself to make myself feel better."

"I slipped up this time. It was my mistake," Amanda told him.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, each staring at their respective hands, until her father spoke again.

"You were right when you said my gamblin' ruined our lives when you were little. I can see it happenin' to you now, too," Pete told her. He fiddled with the end of the spoon resting on her saucer. "Over the past few years, I've been lucky. But that's all it is, Mandy. We convince ourselves otherwise, but in the end, it all comes down to chance."

"I know."

He met her gaze as he admitted quietly, "I'm just as obsessed as you are. Only difference is, I already messed up my family. You still got yours."

* * *

After work, Amanda walked Frannie down by the water in Hunter's Point Park. The dog trotted along without a leash, ever the most obedient companion, and it allowed Amanda to hold her phone in her hands. There was a pull inside of her, yearning to talk to somebody who understood, somebody who had endured an internal struggle similar to her own. She scrolled through her contact list before settling on a name and hitting 'dial.'

"Rollins! What a nice surprise," a warm, familiar voice answered.

"Hey, Captain. How are ya?" Amanda replied. She sat down on a bench, Frannie returning to her side.

"I'm good. Just doing some yard work at the cabin," Cragen explained. He sounded relaxed. "How are you?"

"I've been better," she offered uneasily, scratching behind her dog's ears.

"What's going on? Liv ridin' you too hard?"

She was silent, suddenly hesitant to admit that she was floundering.

"You off the wagon?" Cragen guessed.

Amanda's brow creased in surprise. "How'd you know?"

"I can hear it in your voice," he remarked.

"I don't know how it happened..."

"Of course you do. You're either working on your recovery or-"

"-working on your relapse."

"How deep you in this time?"

"It's... not the worst it's been, but it's not good, either."

"Don't beat yourself up too bad. It's progress, not perfection. Better you catch yourself now than later."

"Yeah, I just... I dunno. There's a lot of stuff goin' on here..."

"When's the last time you went to a meeting?"

"Uh... awhile."

"My advice? Get your ass back into one of those seats."

A little smile tugged at Amanda's mouth. "Copy that, Captain."

* * *

She was one of ten other people at a seven thirty meeting in the basement of the Manhattan YMCA. She recognized many of them, back when she used to attend Gambler's Anonymous regularly. Amanda wondered if she had noticed that she had been missing. Some of them smiled at her, others avoided eye contact.

For the majority of the meeting, Amanda was silent, but she was listening. The speaker shared his story - an insurance salesman who embezzled thirty thousand dollars from his company to feed his habit - and even though their journeys weren't the same, Amanda was comforted. She forgot how good it felt to know that she was not alone in her insanity. When discussion was eventually opened up to the group, she knew that she had to say something - not for anybody else, but for herself.

"Hi, uh, I'm Amanda," she started awkwardly, tucking her hair behind her ears.

"Hi, Amanda," her peers murmured collectively.

"I've... been here before. I hadn't gambled in five years... but recently I had a couple of slips," she explained, rolling her coffee cup around between her palms nervously. "A lot of things happened at once, I guess. My daughter's father is fightin' me tooth and nail for custody of her. My younger sister is like a teenager in a thirty-year-old's body... and then my dad, he just came outta no where after years of being gone, telling me he's a professional sports better."

Meekly peering up at the group, she could have sworn she saw envy flash across peoples' features.

"I knew it was wrong, going out with him, but secretly I've been waiting my whole life for him to show up..." Amanda continued. She could feel herself getting emotional and was embarrassed by her vulnerability, so she paused for a moment to collect herself. "And I wanna blame him for putting me in this position, but I can't, not really. I mean, he didn't help, but it was already in me. I haven't been here in a long time and I got complacent. I have two great kids and I got married and I just thought this was behind me. Now I know it's not. It all happened so fast: I started lyin' again, my job suffered. I'm thirty-six years old and I had to ask my father to help me pay our rent because I cleaned out our account. My husband... he thinks I'm a lunatic. He doesn't get it, but he tries to help anyway. It's been weeks since I read to my daughter or took her to the park. Gambling has totally hijacked my life. Again."

People were nodding solemnly, like they understood.

She bowed her head, studying the murky brown liquid in her mug. "I guess I learned the hard way - again - that this is always gonna be here. When things are bad, when things are good, when things are in between... it's a part of me. That really pisses me off. Why me? Why do _I_ have to be this person?"

"Just because it's a part of you doesn't mean it defines you," a soft voice said.

Amanda looked up to see who had spoken: a middle-aged woman was smiling kindly at her.

"It's not your identity. People with cancer don't go around introducing themselves as cancer patients, do they? Of course not. Neither do people with diabetes or high blood pressure. It's not illness that makes them who they are," the woman continued earnestly.

She met the stranger's eyes, grateful for her words. Amanda knew that there were no short cuts in gaining a similar kind of faith and understanding, but for the first time in several weeks, she felt capable of change. She had done this before and she could do it again, so she promised herself that she would keep coming back - honest, open-minded and willing.


	10. Chapter 10

Just as quickly as Amanda's life had fallen to pieces when she started gambling, it came back together once she stopped. She threw away her betting slips, deleted her browser history and took all of her credit cards out of her wallet. She didn't buy anymore cigarettes and cleaned out the spots where she used to hide the old ones. Sometimes her heart would race when she caught snippets of baseball game statistics or felt the crispness of new money in her hand, but in those moments she tried to externalize her addiction to make it something she was competing against, something she didn't want to lose to. Amanda had a lot of good things to fight for.

Begrudgingly, at the recommendation of her Gambler's Anonymous peers, she let Sonny take over all of the bills they shared for the time being. It was humbling, giving him all of that control, knowing that she had to earn the privilege of managing their money back after she had been so careless. Amanda tried to shift her perspective from aggravated to grateful: without Sonny's help, her struggle probably would have been all the more intense.

It was the beginning of summer, which meant SVU was at its busiest. For Amanda, this was a good thing: she would take all of the distractions she could get. After a chaotic ten-hour shift, she gathered up her belongings to leave the precinct with Sonny so they could finally head home. Slipping her favorite brown leather jacket on and putting her purse over her shoulder, she hovered by Sonny's desk while he shut down his laptop.

"Hey, Rollins?" Liv stuck her head out of her doorway. "My office for a minute, please?"

Amanda exchanged a nervous glance with Sonny like a guilty teenager called to see the principal. She silently reminded herself that she had been on her best behavior lately - she was on time every day, following orders, getting her paperwork done - and that she shouldn't be so damn pessimistic all of the time.

"Yeah, Lieutenant?" Amanda said once they were alone in her office.

Liv leaned against her desk. "I've been thinking. I want you to take the Sergeant's exam in August."

Amanda's brows knitted together, surprised and confused. "Huh? Why? Fin's a sergeant."

"Fin's also almost sixty years old," she explained with a smile. "He's gonna wanna retire one day and when that day comes, I want to know I've got somebody experienced to take his place."

She found herself excited and nervous. "Liv, I don't know-"

"I've seen your college transcripts, Amanda. Four years of straight A's. More importantly, you're a good cop. You know what you're doing." The lieutenant looked at her curiously. "You've been at SVU for six years now, haven't you ever thought about it?"

"Well, yeah, of course," _I've been thinking about it since before Jesse was even born,_ she added silently. "I figured I'd do it someday. But if you really want me to do it now..."

Liv picked up a heavy exam preparation book from her desk and held it in both of her hands. "I really want you to."

There was something about the firmness of Liv's tone that stoked Amanda's ambitious, competitive side. Despite their rocky moments in the past, she deeply respected Liv. If her lieutenant thought she was good enough to move up a rank, she wanted to prove her right. "Okay."

"If you pass, the salary is ten grand more than you make now," Liv added.

Amanda took the book from her. "I'll pass," she assured her firmly.

Liv grinned. "I know."

She shoved the large text into her big purse before leaving Liv's office. Sonny was perched on the edge of her desk, thumbing through his phone, waiting.

"You good?" he asked, looking up at her.

Amanda nodded.

Outside of the precinct, Sonny entwined their fingers as they walked toward the subway. Years ago, she used to think it was irritating that he always wanted to hold her hand; now she found it comforting.

"What'd Liv want?" he asked her curiously.

"She wants me to take the Sergeant's exam," she told him.

"Really? _Alright, Sarge!_ " he exclaimed enthusiastically, grinning over at her.

"She only just asked me!" Amanda laughed. "I could fail."

"Nah," Sonny said with a dismissive wave of his free hand.

"The prep book is huge," she added.

"I heard the exam is six hours long," he began to babble. "Two years ago the answer key got out so now they've added thirty more questions and only like, seven percent of the people takin' it pass."

She glared at him. Sometimes Sonny seriously struggled with tact. "That's real helpful, Sonny."

"You'll be good," he insisted lightly.

"It's a ten thousand dollar raise."

"Really? Wow. I've always wanted a sugar mama."

Amused, she rolled her eyes. "It made me think... if you got offered that ADA job and you wanted to take it... the difference in your salary wouldn't matter so much."

"Let's not talk about money right now." He squeezed her hand. "I'm proud of you."

"I haven't done anything yet," Amanda reminded him.

"I'm not just talkin' about this-"

A man walking in the opposite direction down the sidewalk collided roughly with Amanda's shoulder. He didn't stop to apologize, just hurried away down the street. She caught the quickest glimpse of him: he had dark brown hair that was swept away from his face and he was dressed neatly in a suit.

"Asshole," Sonny grumbled.

Amanda looked over her shoulder as the man's form disappeared into the crowd. She had an odd feeling in her chest; she could have sworn she had seen him before.

"Let's get dinner, huh?" Sonny suggested, looking at his watch.

"Sushi?" she asked hopefully.

He scrunched up his face in disgust. "Ugh."

"Come on, just try it once. For me?" Amanda pleaded, then added with a smirk, "you tried _raw portobello fries_ for some other chick."

"How the hell do you remember that?" Sonny asked her with a chuckle.

She grinned coyly. "I remember everything."

"I remember things, too," he insisted smugly. They stopped on a corner to wait for traffic to pass and he entwined her other hand with his. He smiled down at her. "Like, remember when I first started at SVU and you hated me?"

"I didn't _hate_ you!" she laughed, eyes wide. "I found you incredibly annoying. There's a difference."

"Arguably a small one, but okay," he conceded, waggling his brows.

"And now I still find you incredibly annoying, but I love you, so it's alright," Amanda teased. Lifting up on her toes, she kissed him. She didn't care that they were in the middle of a crowded sidewalk: sometimes she found herself so overwhelmed with gratitude that if she didn't act on it, she was certain she would explode. "I love you so much."

"I love you," Sonny mumbled against her lips. "But we're still not gettin' sushi."

* * *

The backyard of the Carisi home in Staten Island was a lush, green reprieve from city life. With the air warm and the sun hanging low hours into the evening, they ate dinner outside on the patio then lingered there to enjoy the quiet. Jesse was barefoot on the lawn wielding a plastic bat, repeatedly swinging at a ball sitting atop a tee under Sonny's expert supervision. He was supportive of her, bravely making gentle suggestions to a four-year-old who insisted she already knew everything. Even so, she kept getting distracted by bugs or low-flying planes - or random, unrelated questions that simply had to be answered in that very moment.

"I heard you're taking the Sergeant's Exam in August," Sonny's mother said excitedly from her spot in the lawn chair next to Amanda's.

Sonny's voice drifted over from the lawn as he tried to assist Jesse in her technique: "you gotta keep your feet wide, Jesse. Nope, not like that. Not like that either. Other way. There ya go. What are you doin' with your arms?"

"Oh yeah?" Amanda raised an eyebrow and adjusted Luca on her lap, who was gnawing sloppily on a teething cookie. Of course Sonny had told her; he had never been good at keeping secrets. She took a sip of her beer then rested it back atop the flat arm of her chair.

"That's exciting," Mrs. Carisi said.

"Thanks. I haven't started studying yet, but I should," Amanda admitted sheepishly.

The older woman leaned in closer to her. "You know you could always drop the kids off here, if you need to concentrate."

Of course Amanda knew that - Sonny's parents would take the kids every day, if they could. "It is kinda hard to get stuff like that done with the two of them," she agreed, then added with a little smirk, "or the three of them, I should say."

Mrs. Carisi grinned, but her smile faltered after a moment. Her eyes flitted from Amanda to Sonny and Jesse, then back to her daughter-in-law again. "How's it goin' with Jesse and... you know?"

Amanda understood what she was implying and shrugged. "Okay, I guess. I think she's starting to understand a little. She likes havin' somebody else paying attention to her." She flicked stray cookie crumbs on to the ground. "I'm not letting her stay with him overnight, though. I know that's what he's gonna ask for next. We go back to court in a couple of weeks."

"How long is this gonna go on for?" she asked quietly.

"Till one of us gives up or runs outta money, I guess," Amanda responded dryly. "He's just so... intense. Everything with him is always an extreme. I'm okay with this arrangement, but I know he's gonna want more. I just don't think he understands how disruptive all of this is. I'm hoping I'm wrong and he can just be happy with what we're doing now."

Suddenly, the bat cracked against the plastic ball, sending it soaring a surprising distance across the yard.

"Alright, there you go, Jesse!" Sonny whooped.

"Did you see, mama? Did you see I hit it?" Jesse called excitedly.

"I did! Good job, baby," Amanda assured her with an approving grin before she turned to face Sonny's mother again.

"I pray for you all the time," Mrs. Carisi told her gently. "And if there's anything we can do..."

She shook her head. "You've done so much for us already," she said softly with a small smile. "This is just... something else to get through, I guess."

* * *

Amanda's new routine was waking up especially early to run to a six thirty a.m. Gambler's Anonymous meeting. When it was over, she would run home to get ready to head into the precinct. When her SVU hours were relatively normal, it worked out nicely. She found that both activities cleared her head of clutter so she could be more present not only for her colleagues and victims, but more importantly for the people she loved.

Back on her street, she stopped at a crosswalk, waiting for traffic to pass while she caught her breath. The sun was shining bright and hot already, sweat sticking her bangs to her forehead and shining on her exposed skin. She was genuinely excited to take a shower. Her gaze drifted around her neighborhood, which was busy now that people were up and headed to work. Amanda's eyes settled on a man sitting in a near-by parked sedan - and he was looking at her, too. He seemed familiar - so familiar that Amanda ignored the blinking 'walk' sign to study him further in an attempt to identify him. He had dark hair, chiseled features, brown eyes...

After a minute, it occurred to her: the casino. He was the same person who had hovered at her side on the patio, asking for a light, curious about her life. A few days ago, he had rudely bumped into her on the sidewalk, too - she was almost certain of it.

It left her feeling very weird.

Gears in her mind turning, she sprinted back to her apartment. Inside, Amanda kicked off her sneakers and left them carelessly by the front door. Audrey had taken Jesse to pre-school and Luca was in his pack-n-play, babbling nonsense contentedly. The bathroom door was ajar and it was there that she found Sonny, shirtless, finishing shaving in the mirror.

"I think I'm being followed," she announced to him.

Sonny caught her eye in the mirror's reflection, a skeptical brow raised. "Huh?"

She peeled off her tank top and maneuvered her body around his to start the shower. "I was just waiting to cross the street and this guy was in a car looking at me."

"Maybe he was just checkin' you out," he mused distractedly as his fingers roved over his face, assessing his work.

Amanda put her hands on her hips. "Can you stop admiring yourself for a minute and pay attention?"

He rolled his eyes but obediently turned around to look at her, arms crossed over his chest. "I'm listening."

"I've seen him before," she insisted.

Sonny sighed. "Where?"

"The casino in Queens - I know, I know, don't start, please - I was outside smoking and he asked me for a light," Amanda explained hurriedly. "He was weirdly interested in me."

"Maybe he was just tryin' to make conversation. And maybe he just happens to live in our neighborhood," Sonny suggested.

Amanda shook her head. "He bumped into us, too, the night I told you Liv asked me to take the Sergeant's exam. I'm almost positive."

"There's thousands of people in this city. If it _was_ him, it was probably a coincidence."

"I don't think so. I've got a bad feeling."

"No offense-"

"Don't start a sentence that way."

"-but who would be interested in following you?"

"I don't know, I-" She stopped suddenly, a terrible thought occurring to her. "Declan would."

"Oh, c'mon, Amanda, that's crazy," Sonny remarked dismissively. "You think he hired a PI or something?"

"Why not? _He's_ crazy!"

"Are you dehydrated or something? 'Cause you're actin' delirious."

She roughly pulled the elastic from her hair, frustrated. Sonny may have thought she was insane, but Amanda was beginning to panic. She would admit that she could be paranoid sometimes - six years working at SVU could do that to a person - but Declan was the most calculated person she knew. It wasn't all that far-fetched to think he was utilizing whatever resources he could to find things to use against her in court.

Under any other circumstance, she wouldn't have cared so much. The problem was, given Amanda's recent missteps, there were definitely things to be found.


	11. Chapter 11

**AN:** Ah, I can't believe I forgot to post this earlier! It's been a crazy week, forgive me. I'll be away for the weekend (in NYC, funnily enough!) but here is some NSFW stuff and fluff to make up for my brief absence. ;-)

* * *

"Daddy's gonna pay my rent," Kim announced smugly, pushing Luca's stroller.

Amanda adjusted her grip on Frannie's leash as they all walked leisurely through Central Park. "Oh? How'd you manage that?"

"I asked," her sister replied simply.

She nodded, not at all surprised by Kim's ability to get her needs met one way or another.

"He said he's comin' back in a month or so," Kim went on.

Amanda raised an eyebrow over her sunglasses. "I thought you weren't interested in hanging out with him."

"I changed my mind."

"'Cause he has money now?"

" _No._ " After a thoughtful pause, Kim added, "I'm sorry I got so mad at you about the money."

"S'alright," Amanda murmured.

"I was bein' entitled," her little sister admitted.

That was pretty insightful for Kim, even if the realization was a few weeks late. Amanda gave a small nod. "You were."

"You've got a lot on your plate." Kim glanced over at her and asked meekly, "you're not still gamblin', are you?"

Amanda shook her head. "No."

"Oh, good." Kim sounded genuinely relieved. "D'you think it was because dad-"

"It was me. I can't blame him. I shoulda set boundaries," she interrupted. She scratched at her head with her free hand absently. "I need to get better at doing that."

"Did you tell mama that you saw him?"

"No. Did you?"

She shook her head. "No."

"I'm surprised. You tell her everything."

"I wasn't sure how to."

"I was hopin' you'd break the news."

Kim grinned mischievously. "I will, eventually. You know that you can always count on my big mouth."

* * *

The kitchen table was covered with papers, books and flashcards. In shorts and an old t-shirt, hair tied back in a sloppy ponytail, Amanda sat with her knees bent to her chest, scribbling an elaborate study guide for the Sergeant's exam. She had only been working for a little over an hour but it was already a multi-colored masterpiece: she divided everything up by topic, then sub-topic, her fingers stained with highlighter and pen as she wrote. It was a blissfully quiet Friday night in the apartment: both Luca and Jesse were with Sonny's parents for the weekend to give Amanda two solid days of test preparation, preparation. She only had a month and a half before she would have to sit for the exam, which wasn't a very long time given the vast amount of content on top of all of her other responsibilities.

It kept her mind busy. With such an important and detailed task at hand, Amanda had no room in her head to think about gambling. She would be damned if addiction took a promotion from her - it had already wreaked havoc on enough aspects of her life. Her renewed vigor for self-improvement was evident in her cramping fingers; she had been writing everything down with such focused intensity. She skipped over the 'sex crime procedures' section of her prep book, however, feeling confident enough in the subject matter to move on to the slew of other topics she had to tackle. _Response Situations - Department procedures and guidelines as they apply to: accidents, aided case (routine), aided case with unusual circumstances, arrest situations, allegation of corruption, barricade-hostage, bias incident, bomb threat, bribery arrest, building collapse..._

Sonny burst through the front door so suddenly that Amanda dropped her pen, startled. She pressed her palm to her chest and whirled around in her chair. "Jesus Chr-"

"Guess what?" Sonny blurted, quickly shaking off his suit jacket to toss it onto the back of one of the bar stools. He stood in front of her, long limbs fidgeting excitedly.

Amanda sighed, peering up at him through her bangs. Her luxurious peace and quiet had officially ended. "What?"

"I got it. I got offered the job," Sonny announced breathlessly.

Her blue eyes grew wide with surprise. "What? The ADA job? They offered it to you?"

"Yeah, they just called me on my way home!" he exclaimed, grinning widely.

Sonny looked so genuinely pleased with himself that Amanda's heart threatened to burst with joy for him. She jumped up from her seat and flung her arms around his neck. "Really? That's great!" Sonny hugged her back so tightly that her bare feet lifted off the ground an inch and she let out a little huff of laughter at his enthusiasm. Happy, she pulled away slightly and took his face in her hands so she could kiss him. "I'm so proud of you."

The force with which Sonny returned her kiss took her breath away. The long line of his body pressed even closer to hers, simultaneously pushing her back against the nearest surface - the kitchen table. Bumping into its edge, Amanda's carefully-arranged paperwork shifted, but that wasn't her focus now. She could practically feel the confidence and excitement radiating from Sonny; something about that intensity made a rush of desire shoot through Amanda's veins. For someone who had been so deeply immersed in terribly dry NYPD procedural information mere moments earlier, her head was now filled with noisy static, like an old television that wasn't properly tuned.

"Mm, God, I love you." His words came out a low rumble, sincere but not at all sweet.

"Love you." Her lips traveled along Sonny's jaw, his throat, an array of kisses varying from playful and light to heated bites. Her hands slid down the lean expanse of his chest, nimble fingers plucking open each of the buttons on his dress shirt to get to the warmth underneath. With obvious urgency Sonny's palms found her sides, gripping her there to pick up her smaller frame and set her on the table's surface in one quick movement. He roughly shoved her knees apart so that they were spread on either side of his waist. Mouths meeting again, Amanda blindly fumbled with is belt buckle, deftly unclasping metal and leather. She felt Sonny's fingers in her hair, tugging away the elastic that held up her ponytail and freeing the long blonde mass.

She shifted forward so the tips of her toes touched the ground again, calves straining, her body flush against Sonny's. She hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her shorts and underwear with a coy smile, then wriggled all of the fabric down her hips until it pooled at her ankles. With a quick flick of her foot, Amanda kicked it all away and hopped up onto the edge of the table again. Without any hesitation, she popped open the button of his slacks and pulled down the zipper. After seconds of teasing through fabric, her fingers were wrapped around the length of him and she tugged his bottom lip between her teeth. He exhaled audibly into her mouth, pressing closer to her, straining for more. "Show me what you want, counselor," she murmured, voice dripping with playful seduction.

"Y'sure about that?" Sonny asked huskily. In a flash, a strong hand gripped her small wrist, stopping her slow, taunting strokes. Amanda smirked against his mouth, fingers flexed and frozen in his grasp, waiting for his next move. He didn't want to be teased - she could hear it in his voice, feel it the pleasantly painful way he held onto her. He only released her to quickly grab her hips in each of his hands, pulling her forward so her tailbone was teetering on the edge of the table.

"Oh, fuck!" Her eyes widened and back arched.

He filled her to the hilt. She felt that her heart was torn between the immediate physiological response of racing and stopping altogether. Having memorized his exact expression each time he successfully pulled his name from her mouth, Amanda was sure to utter it with every deep, rough thrust – a way of communicating how she desired him and that he moved the precise way she craved. They were leaned back slightly as one unit, her legs wrapped around his waist as she clawed at back possessively, using his frame as leverage to get closer. In the process, Amanda heard her gigantic prep book fall heavily to the floor with a 'thud' and some of her papers flutter away after it. She hoped their downstairs neighbors weren't home.

As she tightened around him, she buried her head in Sonny's shoulder in an attempt to muffle the sound of her moans. He breathed a string of words hotly against the shell of her ear, telling her how good she was, that he wanted to feel her come. It wasn't a suggestion, it was an order, everything about him forceful and needy in that moment. It was the only scenario in which Amanda liked being told what to do; she always experienced a sick rush of excitement when he was aggressive. The way he talked to her, the raw groans caught in his throat, how he moved in and out of her so fervently - it all combined to stoke the beginnings of Amanda's orgasm. The sensation coiled tightly in the pit of her stomach, pooling at the base of her spine, aching to be sprung free.

Amanda released her hold on him and arched her back, her palms pressed on to the surface of the table behind her. Her head tilted back as her eyes fluttered closed and her heels dug into Sonny's back, ankles crossed tightly to keep him from moving too far away. She rolled her hips to meet his rhythm, over and over, knowing that he was watching her - and turned on by that, too. "Don't stop," she rasped, the angle she had achieved now _just right._ Her vision was hazy with lust, but when her eyes blinked open to meet his gray-blue gaze to find him staring at her so intensely, she felt herself unravel. She cried out her orgasm, body taut and unmoving as it rocketed through her.

"God, fuck, Amanda..." she heard Sonny breathe roughly, the speed of his thrusts increasing, giving her no reprieve. She didn't want him to slow down: she sat up, fingers scraping against his hair, body tremulous and sensitive but still joining his greedily. When something made her feel good, she tended to be a glutton. So she stayed that way, panting and rapturous, until he came, too.

Heat was radiating from his flesh beneath the shirt Sonny was still half-wearing. Motionless, he gulped for air with his face in the crook of her neck. Then he pulled back, meeting Amanda's mouth in a series of languid kisses. She took his face in her hands, thumbs soothing over his jaw then settling gently at the base of his neck where she could feel his pounding pulse point.

"We just had sex on top of my study guide," Amanda told him breathlessly, forehead against his, eyes bright with amusement.

Sonny grinned like he was proud of himself, again. "That has to be some kinda good luck."

* * *

"So are you gonna take it?" Amanda asked Sonny curiously.

She lazed on the couch, legs stretched out so her feet could rest on the coffee table. All of her felt pleasantly warm and heavy. Earlier, after she had cleaned up the small disaster in the kitchen, she went on to take a long, luxurious shower. Sonny had joined her, the both of them stripping off their remaining clothes before pressing close to one another in the small space. Afterwards, spent, Amanda dressed in comfortable clothes and tied her wet hair atop her head. It had been a productive evening, in her opinion: she had started her epic study guide _and_ had sex twice. Once she had dinner, she would want for nothing more.

"I haven't decided yet." Sonny's head was in her lap, his lanky frame laying across the cushions of the couch, eyes on the television that neither of them were watching.

Lazy fingers toyed with his hair, which was still damp and unruly from their shower. "When'd you tell them you'd give them an answer?"

"I, uh, kinda panicked and told them Monday," he admitted.

For some reason, that didn't surprise her. "Don't you want it?"

"Yeah, I do. I really do."

"Then take it."

"It's just that..." Sonny's hand reached out to scratch behind Frannie's ears, who had wandered over to them curiously. "Part of me is thinkin' that maybe I've been a police officer so long that I'm not gonna be able to be a lawyer. Like, in theory and on paper I can do it, but maybe not in practice. And maybe I just fooled the D.A's office into thinkin' otherwise."

Amanda nodded. "Impostor syndrome."

"'Scuse me?" he said, confused.

"I read an article about it once. It's when you feel like your accomplishments aren't your own, like you've tricked people into thinking you're smart and everybody is gonna discover you're a fraud," she explained to him.

"Well... okay, yeah, that about sums it up," he admitted sheepishly before adding, "you a doctor now too, Sarge?"

"Don't call me that! You'll jinx it," she exclaimed nervously. "But, no. I just think you should give yourself a little more credit. I bet a lot of people interviewed for that job and they wanted you."

"What about the kids?" he asked.

"They're both way too young to apply. They never stood a chance anyway," Amanda joked.

"You know what I mean," Sonny grumbled.

"It'll just take some adjusting," she said gently. She wasn't sure if that was true, but she was making an effort to be less pessimistic these days. After her initial freak-out at Sonny's contemplation of a career change, she was still trying to redeem herself. "We'll figure out a routine. Change is a process, not an event."

"You sound like a fortune cookie," he observed, sounding amused.

"It's just... it's something they say in GA," Amanda mumbled, somewhat embarrassed that she was quoting them in her every day life. "Speaking of cookies, though, I know I should probably be doing something for _you_ but... can you make some dinner? I'm starving."

Sonny chuckled and rolled onto his back so he could look up at her. "Whaddya want?"

She raked her fingers through his hair again, pushing it away from his forehead. "That pasta with the lemon and basil," she suggested innocently, like she hadn't been thinking about it for the past hour. (She definitely had been).

"You ever gonna learn how to boil water?" he asked, waggling his eyebrows.

Amanda puffed out her lower lip. "You don't like cookin' for me?" Her voice was all Georgia peach.

He rolled his eyes and grinned. "Of course I do. It's just for somebody so smart, it's amazin' how dumb you become in the kitchen."

"For the record, I can boil water," she insisted. "It's all the stuff that comes after that I struggle with."

Sonny sat up and ruffled his hair with his hand. Smirking, as he hauled himself up to standing. "Well, let's go then. Show me what you got."

Amanda heaved a dramatic sigh and padded barefoot into the kitchen. She obediently filled a big pot with water before setting it down on the stove with a 'clunk.' She turned on the burner with a flourish.

"All done," she announced brightly before turning on her heel and pulling open the refrigerator. She grabbed a bottle of white wine to pour into two glasses - that was her preferred dinner-time task.

"Beautiful job," Sonny remarked sarcastically, moving around her to begin to assemble ingredients.

Glass in hand, she leaned back against the counter, out of the way. For a few minutes she was quiet, watching him pull out a pan and dig around the fridge for the items he needed.

"You're gonna have to turn in your badge and gun, y'know," she realized suddenly.

Back to her, she saw Sonny nod as he began to chop up basil and garlic on a cutting board. "I know."

She couldn't fathom it: those two objects were like appendages. Amanda almost wasn't sure who she was without them. "That's weird."

"Kinda, yeah," he agreed.

"You'll have to pay to parking tickets," Amanda added.

"No way. Why do you think I married NYPD?" he joked with a swallow of wine.

She smiled into her drink. "Who's gonna take your place?"

"They'll have to hire somebody," he responded easily, dumping olive oil into the skillet he had set on a free burner. "Maybe Leah will come back, although I think she's more comfortable with dead people."

Amanda frowned. Her next thought was childish, but she said it anyway: "I don't wanna work with anybody new."

He cast a glance over her shoulder, appearing both amused and exasperated. "Oh, c'mon. Five minutes ago you were gettin' all therapist on me, tellin' me to take this job."

"I know, I know, and I still want you to," she promised him earnestly. "It's just... gonna be weird."

Abandoning the pan, Sonny turned around and stepped close to her. He took her chin between his fingers to look her in the eye. "It's all gonna work out however it needs to," he promised her levelly.

Amanda gave a little nod. She had to believe him, because there was nobody on earth she trusted more than Sonny.


	12. Chapter 12

**AN:** Thanks for being patient, guys! Hope you all enjoyed your long weekend (if you're in the States/were lucky enough to have one).

* * *

Amanda left her Sunday evening meeting feeling lighter. Sometimes she wasn't even sure what she was carrying that was so heavy, but she was grateful when the burden was alleviated anyway. Her mind wandered as she walked, wondering if Sonny's parents had dropped Jesse and Luca off yet, if she would have time to get a little more studying done, if there was ice cream in the freezer...

She felt somebody looking at her.

She stopped. There he was again: standing outside a convenience store a block away, dark eyes watching her. This time, their gazes met. Amanda began to quicken her stride toward him, determined, but he wasn't going to wait around to chat. He began to run.

"Hey! Stop!" she shouted, sprinting after him at full speed.

The sidewalk was nearly empty, affording Amanda a clear path toward her target, her feet pounding the concrete. The stranger was fast, but not faster than she was. She ran until she could reach out and grab a handful of his jacket, tripping him up, using all of her strength and body weight to shove him into the side of a residential building. She kept him pinned there, his cheek pressed against the bricks. He squirmed, but another hard thrust of her shoulder stilled him.

With one hand, she held his wrists together behind his back. With her other, she pulled her badge from her pocket and stuck it in his face. "Can I _help_ you with something?" she snarled breathlessly.

He didn't say anything, just gulped for air.

"I know you've been followin' me," Amanda continued, putting her shield away and using both hands to hold onto him again. "You aren't very discreet."

Nothing. His mouth was pressed into a hard line.

"Who are you UC for, huh? Lieutenant Murphy?" she demanded.

The man's eyes squeezed shut.

"Show me your license or I'm arresting you," Amanda promised him angrily, getting increasingly more frustrated with his silence.

"For what?" the man finally sputtered, eyes flying open.

"Don't you worry about that, I'll figure something out," she assured him, the acid in her tone a stark contrast to the tight smile she was wearing.

"My wallet is in my back pocket," he eventually conceded.

One hand still holding his wrists behind his back, she used the other to roughly dig into his jeans to grab a black leather wallet. She flipped it open and scanned the contents anxiously. In one of the windowed pockets, she read:

PRIVATE INVESTIGATOR LICENSE

STATE OF NEW YORK

LICENSE NUMBER 987643

WARNER, CHRISTOPHER

"Son of a bitch," Amanda whispered, snapping the wallet closed again. She had been right.

"Uh, can you let me go now? You're hurting me," he pleaded.

She released her grip and handed back his wallet with an icy glare. "How long have you been following me?"

Slowly, Private Investigator Christopher Warner turned around, brushing dust from the wall off of his shirt and jacket. "I can't tell you that, Detective."

Amanda ran her fingers through her hair before settling her hands on her hips. "What are you after? What have you..."

He shook his head. "I can't tell you that either."

Amanda chewed on her lower lip, the fight siphoned out of her, replaced with dread. "I'm not a bad person."

"I know," he told her quietly, meeting her eyes.

"You're not gonna tell them that though, are you." It wasn't meant to be a question.

"I'm going to tell them what I saw."

"I know that I messed up-"

Christopher put up his hands. "You don't have to explain anything to me."

"You're gonna screw up my entire life," Amanda whispered weakly.

"Look, I'm just doing my job. It isn't personal," he told her levelly, seemingly unaffected by her vulnerability.

Her features turned to stone again. "Not to you, it isn't. You must not have kids."

"I-"

"You obviously don't. If you did, you would understand that they change everything," Amanda told him sharply, blood running hot with emotion. "They are these... these little humans who depend on you for everything, who look at you to teach them how the world works, and as much as they rely on you, you rely on them. Their happiness is yours and yours is theirs. Because they _are_ you."

She took a step closer to him, blue eyes locked onto his dark gaze. "Jesse came from me. From _my_ body. She is a piece of me; everything good about me is in her. And the shitty things? Those things I keep, and I deal with them. One day I'll be proud to teach her that you aren't defined by your mistakes. I'm tired of being faulted for being a human being, for bein' somebody... somebody who fucked up, like that somehow negates all the other stuff I've done."

"So you can tell Murphy whatever you want, but I'm not backing down," she hissed, nose-to-nose with him, seething. "I'm never gonna be less of a mother to Jesse just because he decided he's in the mood to be her father. I will do whatever it takes to give her the best life possible, no matter what it costs me. And trust me, it's already cost me a lot, but I get to go home every night to a sweet little girl who is happy and healthy and safe, and it's worth it. It will _always_ be worth it."

He swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing nervously in his throat.

Amanda wanted to shove him again because he was an easy target for her anger, even though he was just some poor sap doing what he was told. Instead, she stepped back, tucked her blonde hair behind her ears and eyed him coldly. "See you in court," she snapped before she walked away.

* * *

She couldn't get home fast enough.

The moment Amanda was through her apartment door, she found Sonny wandering around the living room, Jesse in his arms against his side. Her little body clad in Hello Kitty pajamas, her cheeks were red and her thumb was in her mouth, her light brown hair adorably disheveled.

"Hey, guys," she greeted them, dropping her purse off on the kitchen counter.

"I don't feel good," Jesse whined. She rubbed her runny nose against Sonny's shoulder.

"My mother said she started gettin' congested a little before they left to come here," Sonny explained. "Baby's fine. He's been asleep for two hours."

Amanda frowned. She reached out a hand, grazing the backs of her fingers against her daughter's soft cheek. Her skin was hot. "You're pretty warm."

Jesse coughed and squirmed in confirmation.

"Let's get you some medicine, huh? Then tuck you into bed," she suggested.

The toddler shook her head against Sonny's shoulder.

"She's been like a barnacle ever since she got back," Sonny murmured.

She sighed. "Mm. Luckily you're cuter than one," she teased her daughter gently, giving her belly a playful poke.

Amanda walked into the bathroom and started digging through the medicine cabinet. Once Jesse was settled, she would talk to Sonny about what had happened on her way home. Until they were asleep, a sick kid tended to be all-consuming. Jesse often became more needy and clingy, but nothing was worse than knowing your child was hurting and you could only do so much to alleviate it, so Amanda and Sonny always indulged her. Finally locating the children's cold medicine, Amanda poured the sticky sweet liquid into a small measuring cup, holding it up to eye level to assess the quantity. Sonny met her in the doorway, still holding the little girl.

She offered Jesse the cup. "Take this."

Jesse scrunched up her red, runny nose. "Ew."

"It tastes like orange soda, remember?" Amanda reminded her. In order to keep Jesse from wiping her nose on Sonny's shirt again, she grabbed a tissue from the counter and cleaned it up for her. _Ah, the glamorous life of a mother_. "And it'll make you feel better."

After a moment of pouting and dramatic whimpering, she reached out and took the medicine, taking little sips until all of it was gone. "Atta girl," Sonny said approvingly.

"Can I lay with you?" Jesse asked neither of them in particular.

Amanda had been prepared for that question. Jesse was becoming a good negotiator, much like her mother and grandma Beth. She did what she was asked then tried to see if she could be rewarded for it somehow, a tactic which would undoubtedly become less cute as she got older. "Y'all had a long weekend and I want you to get some rest so you feel better. So you can - until you fall asleep," her mother bargained with her.

All three of them eventually relaxed on the big bed, Jesse curled up at Sonny's side while they all pretended to watch some flowery cartoon on television. It was when Jesse's breathing became a regular series of soft, congested snores that they changed the channel from Disney to the evening news. Sonny kept a hand on the four-year-old's back, moving up and down even after she had fallen asleep, eyes flickering over the headlines scrolling across the screen.

Amanda crossed her arms over her chest. "I was right," she finally said quietly.

Sonny looked over at her, confused. "About what?"

"Declan's having me followed," she stated bluntly.

His brows knitted together. The motion of his palm on Jesse's back stopped. "What?"

"I was walking home tonight and I saw him. That guy I told you about. I confronted him," Amanda explained.

"What did you do?" Sonny asked cautiously, looking as if he was bracing himself for her answer.

"I just told him that I noticed him. He showed me his PI license."

"So back at the casino..."

"That was him."

Sonny nodded slowly.

"It's not good," Amanda concluded lamely.

"Yeah, I didn't think so," he mumbled.

She rubbed near her collarbone anxiously, fingers encountering a tiny bump of scar tissue. "God. I really fucked up, Sonny," she whispered. "And I don't think there's anything I can do about it."

Sonny didn't say anything. Part of her wanted him to tell her it was going to be okay, that it wasn't that big of a deal. He had always been skilled at allaying her fears. Amanda took his silence to mean he agreed with her: she _had_ fucked up, and there really was nothing to be done.

He lifted his hand from Jesse's back and extended that arm over to Amanda, gesturing for her to come closer. She leaned in, resting her head on Sonny's shoulder, Jesse's sleeping body undisturbed between them.

* * *

Monday morning came, hot and humid. Jesse was still sniffling and coughing, but thankfully Audrey was well-versed in caring for childhood colds. She swooped in with promises of cinnamon sugar oatmeal and movies, allowing Amanda and Sonny to leave for work on time.

They took the E train into Manhattan. It was crowded with commuters, so instead of holding on to a pole or a seat, Amanda hung loosely off of Sonny's arm to keep her balance.

"Today's the day," she reminded him as if he would forget, peering up at him through the sweep of her blonde bangs.

"I know." He looked uneasy.

She squeezed close to him, partly out of necessity in the bustling train car, partly because she wanted to. "You okay?"

He nodded, although it wasn't very convincing.

"You're having a great hair day," Amanda offered honestly with a grin.

Sonny looked down at her with a sly but appreciative smile.

The subway let them off a few blocks from the office and they walked hand-in-hand until they reached the elevators of the precinct. From that point forward, they were colleagues, not husband and wife. Sometimes Amanda wondered if other officers and staff judged them, looked down at them because they had allowed their professional relationship become personal. She had always been highly defensive of her role as a detective - first because she was a woman in a male-dominated field, now because she was married with children and for some reason that was considered a weakness. Amanda never wanted anybody to see her as anything less than capable.

In the squad room, they each hovered over their respective desks. Fin wasn't sitting across from her yet, but he insisted on driving every morning and occasionally got stuck in rush hour traffic.

"Guys, don't get too comfortable." Liv appeared from her office, looking frazzled.

"What's up, Lieu?" Sonny asked curiously, cracking open his laptop.

"Fin's got food poisoning and I have a CompStat meeting I'm already ten minutes late for," she explained, running a hand through her dark hair. Her eyes flitted down to her phone in her hand. "I just got a call that a seven-year-old girl randomly showed up on somebody's doorstep fifteen minutes ago, soaking wet and confused on the Upper East Side."

"Alone?" Amanda asked.

"Apparently. I don't have a lot of details," Liv admitted, already walking toward the elevator. "Head down there now, sounds like the 9-1-1 caller is a graduate student and easy enough to interview. I've gotta go. Rollins, I just texted you the address. Fill me in when you're there."

Liv turned around and tossed the keys to the squad car in the air for somebody to catch before she disappeared. Lunging forward, Amanda snatched at them a millisecond before Sonny and spun them around her fingers victoriously. He glared at her, defeated.

"Would it kill you to let me drive?" Sonny asked Amanda as they began to leave the precinct.

"Yeah, grandpa, it would," she quipped with a roguish grin.

The drive to the Upper East Side was quick. Amanda was grateful to be busy right away - she could use the distraction after what she had discovered last night. She could tell that Sonny wasn't himself, either: typically, he was talkative and curious. Now, he sat silent in the passenger's seat. She assumed his looming phone call with the D.A.'s office was to blame for his unusually quiet demeanor.

She pulled their vehicle up to the appropriate brownstone and parked outside next to a squad car. A familiar uniformed officer stood on the sidewalk, waiting for them.

"Rollins, Carisi," Officer Nolan greeted them with a little nod once they joined him.

"What's up?" Amanda asked.

"Rachel Torres rents an apartment here. Says she woke up this morning to somebody banging on her door - turns out it was this little girl, soaking wet," Nolan explained. "I've got a bus on the way just in case, but she seems okay physically aside from some bruising on her neck and wrists. She hasn't said much."

"They inside?" Sonny looked to the front door of the building.

"Yeah, first floor, apartment 12B. I told her you were on your way," Nolan said.

Amanda nodded. "Thanks, Nolan."

The door to 12B was slightly ajar. Cautiously, they both stepped inside. A young woman was pacing the small living room anxiously, dressed in leggings and a t-shirt. A young girl sat on the couch, unmoving, wrapped in a fluffy white towel. Her brown eyes were wide but she wasn't crying; she appeared to be in shock. Wet blonde hair stuck to her forehead.

"Hi. Are you from SVU?" the young woman asked them anxiously.

"We are. I'm Detective Rollins, this is Detective Carisi," Amanda told her.

"I'm Rachel." The young woman stepped closer to them, appearing relieved. "I'm glad you're here."

"Can you tell us what happened?" Amanda asked, eyes flitting from Rachel to the little girl on the couch, then back to Rachel again.

"I was getting ready to go to class a half hour or so ago and heard a banging on the door," Rachel explained hurriedly. "I opened it up and she was standing there in the hallway, soaked from head to toe. She seemed totally shocked. I dried her off as best I could - thank God it isn't winter time, she would have froze to death. She's barely said a word to me and I didn't want to upset her, so I haven't asked her much..."

"That's okay," Amanda assured her. "Have you ever seen her before?"

Rachel shook her head. "No. But I, I'm getting my Ph.D in neurobiology, so I don't exactly hang around kids a lot..."

Amanda watched as Sonny took a seat on the couch next to the girl, careful not to get too close. Rachel bit her lip, worried, watching them.

"Hi. I'm Sonny. What's your name?" he said, offering the child a friendly smile.

The girl shifted in her seat, tightening the big towel around her. "Hayley Carlisle," she answered timidly.

"Hayley, that's a nice name," Sonny said lightly. "How'd you get here, Hayley?"

"I had to swim. And then I walked a bunch," Hayley answered.

Sonny's brows knitted together and his eyes grew wide. "Swim?"

Hayley nodded. "He threw me in the river."

His gaze flickered to Amanda's, then back to Hayley. "Who did?"

She shrugged her tiny shoulders. "I don't know. He was a man at the party."

"The same person who did that to your neck?" He gestured to the purple bruise standing out against Hayley's pale skin.

She nodded.

"Hayley, where's your mom and dad?"

The little girl's eyes started to well up. "I dunno."

"I need you to tell me everything that happened up until now, okay?" Sonny requested gently.

Hayley nodded. "I was at my grandma and grandpa's house at a party. We had hot dogs and hamburgers and stuff, but I wanted a grilled cheese so my grandpa made me one," she began meekly. "I fell asleep in a chair outside because I was real tired. When I woke up I was in a car and a man was driving around for a long time. I kept asking to go home but he got mad and said 'no' and a lot of bad words. Then he choked me real hard. He picked me up and threw me over the bridge. It was so tall. My dad taught me to swim at the Y so I'm real good at it. So I swam until I made it here."

"What bridge?"

"Um... it had a number 25 on it."

"State route 25. The 59th street bridge," Sonny murmured, appearing shocked. "Hayley, he _threw_ you from that?"

She nodded quickly. "It was scary. He picked me up and just... pushed me. It was cold."

"I bet it was. D'you know your mom and dad's phone number?"

"No..."

"That's okay. What's mom or dad's name, huh? We'll find them. I'm sure they're missin' you."

"Jennifer and Michael. 99 Kingsland Avenue, Brooklyn, New York, 11222," Hayley recited, like her parents had drilled the information into her in preparation for some terrible but far-fetched emergency - the kind that was taking place right that very moment.


	13. Chapter 13

Hayley Carlisle's parents arrived at Bellevue Hospital with her grandparents in tow. They all looked frazzled, frantic - exactly how Amanda would appear if either of her children had been kidnapped and tossed carelessly into the East River. After the Carlisle family had set eyes on Hayley and were confident that by some miracle she was alive and well, they all huddled in the empty waiting room.

"Can you tell me what happened last night?" Amanda asked the group while Sonny was in the lobby, calling Liv to update her.

"We had a big party with family and friends. My oldest daughter Lauren got promoted," Hayley's grandmother answered feebly.

"It was a long day. Hayley fell asleep in a big lawn chair after the party and she was comfortable out there, so we let her stay," her grandfather told her hurriedly. "I tried to move her inside and she didn't want to go. She wanted to see the stars. I figured, 'what's the harm?' It's fenced in, our neighborhood is safe. We could keep an eye on her through the window. I thought that once she fell asleep, I could carry her in to bed. She was supposed to be staying with us for the next few days."

"Mike and I were supposed to be out of town, for a conference. We're both in the pharmaceutical field," Hayley's mother Jennifer explained.

"What time did you notice she was missing?" Amanda asked curiously.

"Around eight thirty," Hayley's grandfather recalled. "I called the police. They said they put out an AMBER alert, but it was like she disappeared from thin air, I couldn't tell them who she could be with or what she could be doing because... she was just in our yard one minute, and gone the next. There was nobody out there with her."

"Hayley says a man took her and drove her around for hours," Amanda said. "The timeline is fuzzy, but she remembers falling asleep in the chair and waking up in an unfamiliar car. I know you say all the guests were gone by the time Hayley was sleeping and that everybody who had been there was interviewed once the AMBER alert was issued, but is there _anybody else_ at the party that you may have forgotten to mention?"

They were all silent, brows furrowed with worry and desperation as they exchanged glances.

"Okay, dad, let's think," Jennifer said anxiously, rubbing her forehead like that would coax out more information. "There were so many people, it was my older sister's party so I didn't exactly know everyone there personally... I... I feel like I remembered them all but I don't know..."

"We invited our newest neighbor, Adam," Hayley's grandfather blurted, as if it just occurred to him. "Adam Bradley. I don't think I told the police about him. He just sort of blends in, you know? Easy to look over. He's only been living on our street for about six months, but he's a good guy. He coaches the girl's youth hockey team and he's always been friendly..."

"You have a picture of him?" Amanda asked them.

"No..."

"I do!" Jennifer exclaimed, shaking hands pulling out her phone from her pocket and beginning to swipe through the screen. She turned it to face Amanda. "We took a group photo."

Amanda took the phone from her and studied the zoomed-in face in the image. Hayley's grandfather was right: Adam seemed to be an unassuming-looking thirty-something. "Mind if I show this to Hayley?"

Jennifer shook her head, eyes wide with a fearful kind of hopefulness. "Not at all."

Excusing herself, Amanda walked down the hall to Hayley's room. She knocked on the door frame quietly before slipping inside. The seven-year-old was tucked into her hospital bed, surrounded by beeping and blinking machines. "Hey, Hayley," she said gently. "How ya feelin'?"

Hayley opened her eyes, head lolling against her pillow. "Tired."

"Well, I'm gonna let you nap, I swear," Amanda promised her as she approached her bedside. "But first I gotta ask you something: have you ever seen him before?" She held the phone up, displaying Adam's picture.

Hayley scrunched up her freckled nose. "Maybe?"

"Was he at the party?"

"Yeah, I think so. He was nice." Her little brow furrowed. "He has brown hair."

She nodded encouragingly. "He does..."

"The man... the man in the car. He had brown hair. I remember because I pulled it to try to make him stop," Hayley whispered. "He didn't like that."

 _How many brown-haired males live in the tri-state area?_ Amanda thought wearily. It was hardly a distinguishing feature, but she called the precinct and had officers bring Adam Bradley in for questioning anyway.

* * *

Amanda stood by Liv in her office, watching and listening through the glass as Sonny sat in the interrogation room with Adam Bradley. The two men had been idly discussing hockey for fifteen minutes; Amanda had to resist the urge to slam her forehead against the wall.

"He has a process," Liv reminded her, sensing her frustration.

Of course she knew that, she was just anxious. Sonny had a technique: he talked to people like they were hanging out at a bar until they revealed some tiny, seemingly inconsequential bit of information about a case that he could latch onto. His casual approach was very different from how Amanda handled a suspect. She preferred to be sharp and to-the-point; she liked to make her authority clear from the start.

"Hayley Carlisle... she play hockey?" Sonny finally asked, leaned back in his chair lazily.

"Hayley? No. I mean, not with me, at least. I only just met her yesterday," Adam replied with a shrug.

"She'd probably be a good player," Sonny mused.

Adam appeared vaguely interested. "Y'think so?"

"Yeah, she seems strong." He sat up a little straighter. "I mean, to survive fallin' one hundred and thirty one feet into water, then swim all that way ashore and make it to somebody's front door in one piece, she's pretty tough."

"I guess so, yeah." Adam shook his head, his facial expression solemn. "Terrible. Terrible what happened to her. I hope she's okay."

"You notice anything unusual the other night, at the party?"

"Unusual? No. It was just a barbecue."

"What time did you leave?"

"Around six thirty or so, I think."

"You go right home?"

"Yeah."

"Anybody who can confirm that?"

Adam's eyes widened. "What? No, I live alone," he stammered. "Wait a second, am I a suspect?"

"I prefer the term 'person of interest,'" Sonny replied smoothly, idly toying with his pen against the metal surface of the table.

"Well, I went home," Adam insisted, crossing his arms over his chest. He looked more scared than defensive. "I don't have any interest in trying to strangle and drown a little girl."

One of Sonny's eyebrows quirked, the rest of his expression benign. He stopped fiddling with his pen. "Strangle?" he repeated curiously.

"Yeah. That's what the news said happened."

"The news only knows that Hayley was found and that the AMBER alert was cancelled. Nothing else."

"No... I definitely heard them say she was strangled."

"Nah, you didn't."

Liv and Amanda exchanged glances on the other side of the glass.

"Then I guess I just assumed..." Adam trailed off.

Sonny cocked his head slightly, a crease forming between his brows. "You spend a lotta time thinkin' about this type of stuff, Adam?"

"What? Me? No!" he exclaimed. Sweat was beginning to shine on his upper lip. "This is all a big misunderstanding."

"You're right," Sonny said levelly with a nod. He leaned forward, forearms pressed against the table, hands clasped loosely. "It was probably an accident, huh?" he continued quietly.

"What? I..."

"Maybe you thought her parents forgot her out there, maybe you thought you were doin' her a favor, rescuin' her," he went on, voice low and compassionate. "Then she got kinda annoying, right? You were tryin' to help her, bring her back to her parents' place in Brooklyn, and she just wouldn't quit complainin'. Trust me, I've got two kids, I know how it goes. They never shut up. So she got on your nerves and pissed you off, and you went a little too far."

"No. No..."

"You tried to choke her to get her to be quiet but she was pretty strong for a little kid, huh? When you realized what you'd done, you thought to yourself, 'I can't let this girl tell everybody what I did to her.' So you panicked. You did what you had to do. You stopped the car and you tossed her right over the 59th street bridge. 'Cause nobody survives that fall, am I right? I mean, just last year a twenty-five-year-old guy committed suicide by jumpin'. He died the second his body hit the water."

Adam was visibly crumbling. "It, it got out of hand. I didn't mean for it to..."

"I know, you didn't mean it. You're a good guy, right?" Sonny continued gently. "All those girls you coach, you take good care of them. Just like you were tryin' to take care of Hayley."

"I was," Adam sobbed, tears leaking out of his eyes. "I saw her out there and she seemed so sweet... I just... I didn't want to hurt her, I just got so angry that she wouldn't let me hold her, that's all I wanted to do..."

Amanda's stomach turned with the realization that if the seven-year-old hadn't defended herself so passionately, Adam probably would have sexually assaulted her, too.

"Well, here's the thing: I got good news and I got bad news," Sonny concluded, standing up. Palms pressed against the table, he leaned forward to loom over Adam. "The good news is that Hayley doesn't have any long-lasting injuries and she's gonna be just fine. The bad news is that you're under arrest for kidnapping."

* * *

Sonny stayed at the precinct later than Amanda to do paperwork and to wait for Liv. The moment Amanda stepped outside to head home to relieve Audrey, there was a flash of lightening and a massive clap of thunder, followed by sheets of rain. She ran as fast as she could to the subway but her effort was futile: by the time she was safely underground, she was sopping wet.

At her apartment, her clothes and hair were sticking to her. She left puddles through out the kitchen and living room as she made her way to her bedroom to change. She toweled herself off and discarded her damp outfit in favor of old track shorts, a tank top and her precious Braves sweatshirt. Dry and warm, Amanda turned her attention to tending to the kids. She fed them both simultaneously (a skill she had only recently developed), gave Jesse a bath, then read them both stories once they were each in their pajamas. Jesse fell asleep unusually early given her cold and the baby was seemingly unfazed by the loud storm going on outside of their home. When everyone was tucked in, Amanda retreated back to her bedroom.

She sat cross-legged on the bed in front of her Sergeant's exam preparation book and notes. Frannie laid close by her side, anxious because of the weather. Amanda was tired but she needed to get some studying done while she could - and she needed a distraction, because she was nervous for Sonny. Every few minutes her mind would drift as she thought of him packing up his desk, setting his badge and his gun in front of Liv and walking away from SVU forever. Somebody would eventually take his place and maybe they would be skilled enough for the job, but they would never _be_ Sonny. There was absolutely, positively only one Dominick Carisi Jr. in this world.

Amanda dutifully returned to her practice exam, her pencil shading in the answer bubbles as she moved down the row of questions. Everything was worded in such an annoying, convoluted way - she was sure that had to be purposeful. Then again, it had been a long time since Amanda had taken a test. She remembered when Sonny took his bar exam, how terrified he had been. He had always been sort of high-strung, but Amanda had been convinced that the gravity of that test would push him right over the brink of insanity. They had only just started seeing each other back then and everything was new. At first she had wondered if she was merely a physical outlet for his stress, which she wouldn't have necessarily hated - until she found herself in love with him, of course. Amanda smiled when she recalled how happy Sonny had been when he had ultimately passed the exam: when she had hugged him, he had been trembling with relief. The last time _she_ had ever been that excited about something was when she had graduated from the police academy.

That was why Amanda was studying for the Sergeant's exam while Sonny was quitting SVU. They had always been different, but in little ways, in ways that worked. She was flighty and impulsive, Sonny was thoughtful and steady. He was loud and bold, she was quiet and calculated. Over the years they had each learned to be flexible and soften the edges of their individual personalities to become one. An unmovable piece of Amanda's identity, however, was being a police officer. She had always thought that was one of their similarities; Sonny's desire to protect and serve was palpable from the moment they had first met.

When the bedroom door finally creaked open, Amanda jerked her gaze up from her notes in her hand. Sonny appeared, just as wet as she had been hours earlier. Droplets of rain rolled down his face and he shook out his long arms in an unsuccessful attempt to rid himself of the moisture that clung to his shirt.

"So? What'd she say? Did she freak out?" Amanda demanded anxiously.

Sonny began pulling off his damp tie. "Not exactly."

"Tell me!" She bounced a little against the mattress like an excited child. "I've been dyin' over here waiting."

Sonny tossed his tie into the hamper, then rubbed the back of his neck with his palm. "I didn't do it."

"Huh? Why not? You called the D.A. though, right? To let them know you'd take it?" she babbled.

He shook his head, fingers moving to undo the buttons of his dress shirt. "Didn't do that either."

"Sonny, what the hell are you talking about?" Amanda practically slammed her study guide down on top of her book.

"I didn't take the job," he said slowly.

Her gaze narrowed. "You're fucking with me."

"I'm not fuckin' with you."

"What... why?" Amanda's eyes widened with horror. "Oh my God, you didn't not do this because of me, did you? I know I was bein' crazy about it, but I'm over it. I told you I was! I want you to do this, you've always wanted to-"

"It has nothing to do with you," Sonny interrupted her, shaking off his dress shirt so he was just in his white undershirt. He sat down on the edge of the bed near her. "I was finishin' up those DD-5s - thanks for leavin' them for me by the way." He glanced over his shoulder to give her a pointed look. "And I was waitin' for Liv to be done with her meeting, y'know, so she and I could talk. Well, Hayley's mom came into the precinct. She came in to thank me. She coulda called, but instead, even after the crazy two days she had, she came down to say 'thank you' in person."

"What I do - what we do - has an impact, even if nobody tells us that all the time," he continued. "Yeah, I could do that as an ADA, but I like makin' a difference on this side of the law. Even though it's hard, I enjoy feelin' connected to the city, to people. I don't wanna be holed up in some office, hearing about it all later. I wanna be a part of it as it happens. I guess I just needed a reminder that muddlin' through all the really terrible stuff is always worth it to somebody." He glanced over at Amanda. "Liv told me once that bein' a cop doesn't change you, it makes you more of who you already are. I get what she was sayin' now. I went to school as a cop. Had Luca as a cop. I married you as a cop. Those are like, the best parts of me. It's brought out way more good than bad."

"So you're not gonna quit?" she asked meekly.

Sonny shook his head. "I'm not."

Amanda flung herself over her books and papers to wrap Sonny up in a sideways hug. She was flooded with relief, which was probably unfair, but she couldn't help it. She covered the side of his face with enthusiastic kisses. "I can't wait to be your boss!"


	14. Chapter 14

**AN:** Fluff ahead.

* * *

"Sonny?"

Amanda whispered into the dark, both of them beneath the sheets on their respective sides of the bed. Just enough time had passed for either of them to drift off to sleep, except her eyes were still wide open.

"Hm?" Sonny grunted.

"The ADA thing..."

"What about it?"

"Are you being honest with me?"

"Huh?"

"Y'sure you didn't turn it down because of me?"

His sigh was palpable; she felt him flop onto his back. "I told you why I turned it down."

She rolled over so she was on her side, facing him. "Yeah, but..."

"It wasn't an impulsive decision. I put a lot of thought into it."

Amanda hugged the pillow beneath her head. "I know..."

Silence fell between them. The air conditioner hummed, Frannie's collar jingled softly as she shifted around at the foot of the bed. The only light was the glow of the baby monitor screen on Amanda's nightstand, broadcasting a peacefully sleeping Luca in the room next door. She figured the conversation was over for Sonny, who was most likely too tired to engage Amanda in a circular and unproductive discussion around something they had already talked about. She shut her eyes and wriggled deeper beneath the covers.

"You want a house, don't you?" Sonny's voice punctured the quiet suddenly.

Her eyes flew open again and she tried to read his facial expression in the dark. "What's that got to do with anything?"

"When you get promoted, we can use the extra income. We can save it, instead of makin' up for the disparity in the ADA salary," he went on.

"I mean, yeah, but..."

"Everything I said earlier was true. I like the idea of bein' an ADA, but I like actually _working_ as a cop. But I also realized... decisions like this, it's not as simple as just being about what I like anymore."

"What do you mean?"

Sonny rubbed his palms over his face slowly before dropping them back at his sides. "Once, when I was sixteen, I wanted to go to this house party my buddy was havin' at the end of the school year. It was supposed to be crazy. His parents were outta town, his older brother was twenty-one and buyin' all this booze... y'know, the usual. And this girl - Lily Bottari - I had a huge crush on her, right? Of course she was goin', so I had to be there. That was the night I was gonna make my move." She could hear the smirk in his tone.

"Oh, Lord, spare me," Amanda groaned with a roll of her eyes.

"Well, here's the thing. I was the only one around to watch Bella that night, 'cause the babysitter backed out and everybody else was busy," he continued. "So my ma told me I had to stay home with her. I was so pissed off, I made a huge scene, stomping around, slammin' stuff, swearin'. I locked myself in my room-"

"What a drama queen," she muttered.

"-and after a little while my dad came in. I thought he was gonna rip my head off, especially since I swore at my mother, which is like... pretty bad. But instead he just sits down on my bed and he says, 'you know the most important piece of advice I ever got, Sonny?' and I don't say anything, but he tells me, 'a boy does what he wants to, a man does what he has to.' And then he just left me there alone to ponder that."

Sonny turned his head and looked over at her. "I think about that till this day. When you're lucky enough to have a family that cares about you, and you care about them too, you do what you have to do to keep them content. The 'want' is secondary. So maybe if I was twenty-something and unattached, I'd take the ADA job. But I'm not. I'm always gonna try to make decisions that are in all of our best interests. That's the type of person I wanna be."

Amanda didn't say anything, momentarily speechless. Even after all of this time, she was still surprised by how inherently thoughtful Sonny was. He didn't whine about making sacrifices or want credit or validation for being a good person - he just _did it_ and was grateful for the opportunity to love and be loved. She didn't know anybody else like him but she was immensely thankful that somehow, amid the sea of self-serving assholes, he had found his way to her.

She shifted nearer to his side and pressed her lips into his cheek. Her hand reached across to settle on the opposite side of his face, holding him gently in place. "Where the hell did you come from?" she whispered in awe into his warm skin.

Amanda felt him smile. "Staten Island."

* * *

She cleaned the kitchen to avoid studying. Lately, every day she went through the same internal battle: pick up that stupid prep book or do literally anything else. That night, 'anything else' won. Amanda was nervous about the upcoming exam but she would be absolutely thrilled when it was over. Learning things as an adult was a lot harder than being in high school or college, where one's only job was to retain information. Now she was pulled in ten different directions by real life, everything demanding brain power and leaving little to spare by the end of the day.

"You tell Barba you didn't take the job?" Amanda asked Sonny curiously as she dried the dishes from their dinner. She had seen them chatting privately that morning.

Sonny sat at the kitchen table, feeding Luca mashed up bananas in his high chair. "Yeah. I told him today."

"He was probably relieved that you guys wouldn't be sharing an office," she teased, stacking plates neatly in the cabinet. "If y'all worked together anymore than you do now, I think his head might explode."

"Ha ha, very funny," Sonny remarked sarcastically. He turned in his chair to look at her over his shoulder, Luca's little spoon paused in mid-air. "He just told me-"

"Dada. Dadadada."

Both Amanda and Sonny stopped what they were doing at the sound of Luca's voice, sweet and clear from his place in his high chair.

Sonny whirled around in his seat. "What'd you just say?" he demanded of the baby.

Luca's chubby hands reached out in front of him, straining forward, wanting the spoon his father held. "Dada."

"Did you hear that?" Amanda squealed excitedly, rushing over to the two of them. "Only a Carisi would be motivated by food to learn to speak!"

A wide, adoring grin spread across Sonny's face, the kind that lit up his eyes, too. "That's right, buddy!"

Amanda came up behind Sonny's seat, settling hands on his shoulders. She reached over and smoothed a palm over the baby's head, which was now covered in light blonde hair. "Such a smart boy," she cooed approvingly.

"Mama!" Luca chirped, sticky fingers grasping at the air between them.

"Atta boy." Sonny rewarded him with another scoop of mashed bananas, then released the spoon into Luca's small grip to let him gnaw sloppily on the plastic. He made soft _mmnmnm_ noises like he always did when he was enjoying something.

Amanda felt her eyes welling up with tears almost immediately. "Oh no," she moaned. She stood up straight again and hovered by Sonny's side, chewing on her lower lip.

"What? That was the cutest thing I've ever heard," Sonny exclaimed. "Maybe I can get him to say other stuff with the sweet potatoes!"

"Yeah, but, now he talks. Next he's gonna walk and run and then go to school and leave us forever," she lamented dramatically. God, when did she become such a sap? She hadn't shot at something in awhile - maybe she needed to.

"Okay, I think you're gettin' a little ahead of yourself," he chuckled.

She sniffled, momentarily overwhelmed. "Jesse'll be in kindergarten next year."

"Well, yeah, 'Manda. That's kinda how it's supposed to go," Sonny reminded her gently. He reached out the hand closest to her and rubbed her lower back reassuringly. "They can't be babies forever."

Amanda heaved a sigh, watching Luca chew on his fingers. He was at such a sweet age: he babbled and cooed, laughed and smiled, and for the most part he slept normally. She wanted to freeze time - or somehow make it so she always had a baby available to cuddle. "I know, I know."

He turned in his chair and peered up at her with a roguish smile. "We could always have another one."

She quirked an eyebrow. "Then we'd be outnumbered."

"In a cute way, at least," Sonny reasoned.

"We don't have any room." She tugged at her bangs absently. "I don't even know what we're gonna do when Luca gets bigger, he can't sleep in the living room forever..."

Sonny slid his palms into the back pockets of her jeans. "We'll look for a three-bedroom in the fall."

Quiet for a moment, she dragged her fingers through his hair slowly, toying with gelled strands. "Four months."

"Four months?" he repeated, looking confused.

"When the baby is a year, we can start talking about havin' another one," Amanda explained.

He raised a mischievous brow. "Talking or..."

" _Talking,_ " she insisted firmly. "Although I might come to my senses and remember how tired I am by then."

Sonny turned his wrist inward and looked at his watch. "Nope, you said it. I'm puttin' a reminder in the iCal."

She swatted his head playfully, then took his face between her palms, the start of new stubble tickling her skin. "Don't make me reconsider reproducing with you," she warned with a smirk.

He kissed the heel of her hand, blue eyes shining playfully.

When the doorbell buzzed, Amanda's gaze narrowed, confused. "Who's that?"

Sonny shrugged. "I dunno."

Dropping her hands from his cheeks, she walked to the front door. She stood on her toes and looked through the peep hole curiously, immediately surprised by who she saw. " _Shit._ "

"Who is it?" Sonny called.

"It's that guy. The PI," she answered him quietly, not wanting Chris to hear them through the door.

"He's _here?_ "

"Yeah."

Amanda heard rustling in the kitchen and knew that Sonny was getting up and freeing Luca from his high chair. Moments later he appeared with the baby against his side, his expression hardened, and passed Luca to Amanda. She adjusted him against her hip and stepped aside so Sonny could pull open the door, grateful that he could manage the impending interaction. Christopher Warner stood in the hallway, blinking at the couple nervously.

"Can I help you?" Sonny asked curtly.

"Hi, um. I'm Chris," he said. "Your wife and I, we've met-"

"Yeah, I know," Sonny interrupted. "Just a suggestion: if you're gonna keep up the whole PI thing, it's probably best not to go around knockin' on your target's door. Kinda blows your cover."

Chris rubbed the back of his neck with his hand, appearing sheepish. "I actually wanted to talk to you. To both of you, actually."

"About what?" he demanded.

"Can I come in?"

"Look, my kids are here, I really don't want-"

"It'll only take a minute, I swear."

"Just let him in, Sonny," Amanda interjected quietly.

Sonny glanced over at her and murmured, "y'sure?"

She nodded. She had already confronted him. She already knew the damning evidence he possessed against her. At this point, Amanda was at a loss as to what he else he could possibly want, but she didn't want to make a scene.

Sonny begrudgingly opened the door a little wider, allowing Chris to come inside of the apartment. They all stood awkwardly in the foyer.

"I wanted to give you this," Chris eventually said, holding out a USB flash drive in front of Amanda.

Hesitantly, she reached out and took it between her fingers. "What is it?"

"It's all the pictures I took since I started doing... this," he explained. "Everything. Even the stuff from the casino."

Amanda raised her eyebrows, confused. "Why are you giving this to me?"

"I'm not going to give it to Murphy or his attorney."

"But... that's your job."

He nodded. "Yeah, I know. It's just... you know when you asked me if I had kids?"

She shifted the baby against her hip. "Yeah."

"I do, actually. Three of them. I only see them twice a year because my ex-wife is... well, she's vicious. Vicious and loaded," Chris told her dryly. "I didn't stand a chance against her in court when we divorced. She raked me over the coals. It was totally one-sided, skewed..." He shook his head then offered Amanda a small smile. "I know a lot about you. I mean, I've been watching you for awhile. I can tell you're a good mother and that you all love each other. I've been doing this work for years but this just... didn't feel right."

Amanda's heart was in her throat. "What are you gonna tell Murphy?"

Chris shrugged. "I kept a few benign photos to show him that I did what I was paid to do but that I didn't find anything concerning."

She exchanged glances with Sonny.

"You mean to tell me you're just doin' this outta the kindness of your heart?" Sonny asked skeptically.

"I get paid no matter what I find. Or don't find. I never lose sleep over the work I do, but this... it didn't feel right," Chris told them. "So in court next week, I'm not going to have much to say. All I ask is that you don't tell anybody I did this. It stays between you two."

She shook her head. "I won't. We won't," she assured him, then added quietly, "I... thank you."

"This your son? He's cute," Chris said with a wan smile, reaching a finger out to stroke against the baby's arm. He met Amanda's eyes again. "Well, I won't take up any more of your evening. I hope this helps."

She thought of all those times she argued about the existence of God with Sonny. He was so staunch in his faith while she was so critical, so eager to dismiss the preposterous idea that a higher power moved them all around the vast universe like chess pieces. Now, though, Amanda had to wonder: maybe somebody up there was looking out for her after all.


	15. Chapter 15

**AN:** Some more fluffy stuff ahead, but don't worry, more drama will be revealed in upcoming chapters. For now, enjoy the smoosh, and _thank you all for still reading!_

* * *

Amanda had the phone cradled between her shoulder and ear, listening to muffled hold music while she waited for a TARU technician to get back to her. With her free hand, she doodled on her notepad, writing her name over and over with varying degrees of flourish. She wondered what Sonny was doing at home: she hadn't seen him in almost two days except in passing at work or as one of them collapsed into bed. She was willing to bet that by this time he had fallen asleep on the couch, television still on, Frannie sitting patiently at the front door waiting to be taken outside...

His 37th birthday was in a few weeks. She had already gotten him a present (which she had hidden in her locker at the precinct), but she wanted to do something else for him, too. Maybe it was 'just a day,' but if anybody deserved celebrating, it was Sonny. The past year had thrown a lot of difficult and wonderful things at them and at every step of the way, Amanda was immensely grateful to share her life with him.

"Rollins, what are you doing here so late?"

Rafael Barba hovered over her desk, interrupting her train of thought, appearing as polished as ever in a tan suit.

"Oh, overtime," Amanda explained, then grumbled, "that lawyer friend of yours isn't gonna pay for himself."

Barba gave a mildly sympathetic nod. "When's your shift up?"

"Two more hours, unless I catch another case." She narrowed her gaze and adjusted the phone against her ear. What the hell were they doing over at TARU? "Why are _you_ here?"

He shifted where he stood. "Just dropping off some paperwork before..."

"Before...?"

"I go out."

Amanda's blue eyes widened. "Do you have a date?"

Barba bridled, visibly uncomfortable. "Why do you sound so surprised?"

"I dunno, 'cause you're like... romantically involved with your job," she offered with a mischievous grin.

"So are you," he challenged.

"I'm married," she reminded him haughtily, holding up her left hand and wriggling her ring finger.

"My point exactly."

"So, who is she?"

"No, no. This isn't up for discussion," Barba said quickly, holding up a palm. With a smug smile, he began to walk away. "Don't work too hard, detective."

"Wait, Barba!" she called, remembering something.

The ADA turned on his heel and looked back at her. "Yes?"

"I'm gonna have a birthday party for Sonny," Amanda explained. "I don't know where. Or, uh, when. It'll be soon. But I want you to come."

Barba heaved a dramatic sigh. "I suppose I could, seeing as I was spared from having to share office space with him."

"And I think it's gonna be a surprise," she added. "So don't say anything."

"This is very domestic of you, Rollins," Barba quipped.

"Oh, I'm not gonna like... cook or decorate or anything," she scoffed, like the mere idea was ridiculous.

He smirked. "Glad to see marriage and motherhood hasn't changed you _too_ much."

* * *

It was Friday night and Jesse was covered in flour - it was in her hair, on her face, all over her t-shirt. She was repeatedly squishing a blob of pizza dough in her hands, watching it squeeze through the spaces between her fingers with delight. She stood on a step stool next to Sonny in the kitchen, being little to no help in the pizza-making process at all. On the other side of the counter, Amanda sat atop a bar stool, eyes flitting from her study guide to the adorable pair making dinner.

"This is like play dough," Jesse announced.

"Kinda, yeah," Sonny agreed, making his dough into a more pizza-appropriate shape with practiced hands.

"I played with that today!" she added.

"Yeah?"

"In Miss Kate's class. I made a friend that's a boy."

Sonny raised an eyebrow. "Hm, I don't think I like that."

"Ooh. Is he cute?" Amanda asked curiously, peering up from her notes. Sonny looked slightly disturbed by the question.

"Yeah," Jesse responded shyly, abandoning her dough to start picking at the pepperoni set aside to top the pizza with.

"What's his name?" she probed her daughter, waggling her eyebrows in amusement.

"Alexander," she told her mother thickly, mouth full.

"That's a nice name."

"He has blonde hair."

"Can I meet him?" Sonny asked.

"Noooo!" Jesse exclaimed with a grin.

He frowned. "Why not?"

"Because you're weird!" she giggled.

Amanda snorted with laughter.

"Yeah, well, you're pretty weird yourself," Sonny retorted playfully.

"No I'm not!" the little girl squealed, like it was the funniest thing she had ever heard.

"Mhm. That's what I heard," Sonny nodded matter-of-factly. "I heard you're the weirdest person in all of New York City."

"No, you are, daddy!" she insisted over her laughter.

He shook his head. "Nope, it's you."

"Hey, am I ever gonna get to eat any of this pizza?" Amanda interjected impatiently, the faux edge in her voice betrayed by her smile. "I'm starvin'."

"Nana says not to say that because it's not true. Only poor people starve," Jesse replied with all the self-righteousness a four-and-a-half-year-old could possess. Her little brow furrowed as she asked as an after thought, "are we poor?"

Amanda had to resist the urge to roll her eyes. She could practically hear Sonny's mother lecturing about the difference between true starvation and the hunger of the more fortunate.

"No, we are not," Sonny replied firmly.

"That's good," Jesse said simply. She grabbed a fistful of shredded cheese and messily released it over the nearest pizza.

Amanda grinned down at her study guide, trying to regain focus. With Jesse temporarily occupied and the baby napping, it was an opportunity for her to at least attempt to get some reviewing in. After a little while she tuned out Jesse and Sonny's banter, but then the sound of her phone ringing snapped her out of her focused reading. She sifted for the device beneath the loose papers, books and flash cards that surrounded her and saw that it was her lawyer, Jeff McCray, calling.

"Hello?" she answered.

"Hey, Amanda," Jeff's smooth voice replied. "You have a minute?"

She got up from her stool and wandered away from the kitchen, putting distance between herself and her daughter and husband. She felt dread coiling in the pit of her stomach. "Yeah. What's up?"

"I have great news," he told her.

She had no idea what was considered 'great news' in Jeff's world. "Yeah?"

"Declan withdrew his petition and wants to cancel the upcoming court date."

Amanda froze in the middle of the living room, convinced she had misheard. "What? What do you mean?"

"This means he's satisfied with the current arrangement and doesn't want to pursue a new one," Jeff explained. "You won't have to go to court again."

"Really?" she exclaimed, stunned.

"Really. You'll have to sign some papers, of course, but I'll have them couriered to you by tomorrow."

"Oh my God, thank you so much. Seriously. I don't even, I can't even... thank you," she babbled, flooded with relief. This had weighed so heavily on her mind even with the PI's generous promise to preserve her dignity; now Amanda felt a thousand times lighter.

Sonny glanced over at her from the kitchen, appearing confused.

"One more thing," Jeff added.

"Yeah?"

"It's on the house. Any friend of Rafael's is a friend of mine."

"Excuse me?"

"He speaks highly of both of you and the work you do, and I'm always happy to help a public servant. This case was a piece of cake in comparison to the drama I'm usually caught in the middle of."

"You can't be serious," Amanda stammered.

"I insist. Plus, I like to do pro bono work every now and again. Keeps me humble," Jeff told her, a hint of ironic arrogance in his voice.

"I don't know what to say..." she whispered honestly, completely shocked.

"You don't have to say anything," Jeff assured her. "Look out for that paperwork and enjoy your weekend."

Amanda didn't immediately run over to Sonny. Instead, her back to the kitchen, she swiped through her phone. With trembling fingers she dialed Declan's number, wanting to know what he was thinking, how he could have possibly let something like this go. He never backed down from anything, ever. Burning with curiosity, she listened to the line ring and ring until it went to voicemail, but she was too overwhelmed to leave a message.

"Amanda? What's goin' on?" Sonny called to her as he attempted to supervise Jesse's topping distribution.

Wide-eyed, she bounded into the kitchen to stand by their side. "That was Jeff. He just, he said that Declan dropped the petition," she told him breathlessly. "We don't have to go back to court."

Sonny stopped what he was doing, letting Jesse continue as she pleased. "Huh? What? Why?"

"I have no idea. But there's more."

"More?"

"Jeff isn't billing for any of this."

His features transitioned from shocked, to skeptical, back to shocked again. "Seriously?"

"Seriously," she exclaimed, hand pressed to her forehead as she tried to conquer her own disbelief.

This had been Sonny's battle just as much as it had been hers. She rose up on her toes to lean in and kiss him excitedly, Jesse still standing between them.

"Hello! I am here!" Jesse exclaimed dramatically, like they had forgotten she existed.

Laughing, Amanda scooped her precious daughter up and kissed her, too.

* * *

"Okay, you're gonna be fine."

Amanda felt like a little kid being dropped off on her very first day of school. At seven fifteen in the morning, Sonny stood outside of 2 Lafayette Street holding both of her hands in both of his. He was wearing his most earnest, reassuring facial expression.

"You're right, it's gonna be fine," Amanda agreed shakily with a nod.

"Have your ID?" Sonny asked.

"Yes," she replied.

"Pencil?"

"Uh huh."

"Calculator?"

"In my pocket."

"Best ass in NYPD?"

"Sonny!" she exclaimed incredulously, too anxious to appreciate his joke.

He smirked. "I'm just tryin' to lighten the mood."

"This is serious," Amanda reminded him sternly. "If I fail, everyone is gonna know. If Fin can pass using his 'sleep with the prep book under his pillow' technique and I can't after weeks and weeks of studying..."

"You're not gonna fail. You've never failed anything."

"There's a first time for everything."

Sonny looked at his watch. "Speakin' of time, you're gonna be late," he warned her. "Text me when you're done, alright?"

She inhaled. "I will."

"I love you," he said steadily, squeezing her hands. "You're gonna do great."

"I love you, too," she murmured.

He released her fingers to settle his palms against her sides and kiss her. She met his mouth a few times before she finally pulled away for good, then Sonny gave her a grin and disappeared down the sidewalk. Alone, Amanda climbed the stairs to the second floor of the large administrative building. She made her way into a small waiting room filled with nervous-looking people and scanned the crowd: some of them appeared vaguely familiar, officers from other units and precincts, but Amanda was too nervous to make small talk.

As she waited for her name to be called to sign in, she pulled her phone from her pocket to look at the time. Instead, she was distracted by the photo she used as her background image: Jesse, Luca and Sonny's face all crowded into the frame, smiling goofy and wide. She had seen it a million times, of course, but that morning the reminder of their love warmed her to her very bones.

"Carisi?"

It took Amanda a couple of seconds to remember that _she_ was Carisi. "Me! That's me," she blurted finally, scurrying up to the front desk.

"What exam are you sitting for?" the woman behind the computer asked.

"The police Sergeant's exam," Amanda told her, setting her shield and ID on the desk.

Staff eventually took her phone and her sunglasses, inspected her pencil and calculator, then scanned her fingerprint into a security system. Finally they escorted her into a quiet room filled with gray cubicles, each with a test booklet and a pad of paper - neither to be opened until the proctor gave the instructions.

In an attempt to steel herself, Amanda reflected back on all of the hard things life had handed her. She had been assaulted. She had been shot. She had gone to jail, been broke, been betrayed. She had been humiliated and taken advantage of. She had hemorrhaged in childbirth.

If all of that hadn't killed her, this exam sure as hell wouldn't.


	16. Chapter 16

**AN:** NSFW stuff ahead. Busy weekend, so this is a short one!

* * *

The summer at SVU had been busy, but the transition into fall was busier. When the college students returned, the cases steadily increased. Despite One PP's promises of assigning another detective to their unit, they continued to operate day-to-day with just the four of them. The plus-side was that overtime was plentiful; when Amanda was working sixteen hours straight, she tried to envision her inflated paycheck. The money didn't negate the strain it put on her personal life, though. Before Jesse was born, she never hesitated to amass a string of eighty-hour weeks at SVU. Now that she had two children and a husband who shared her demanding job, the sacrifice felt greater. Occasionally she even found herself longing for the winter, when things tended to be slower and she saw Sonny for more than ten or fifteen minutes in passing. Amanda was grateful that they worked together, so at least they could be in one another's presence.

It was Sonny who got stuck on a case that night. He was with Fin - who hated overtime no matter how much it paid - and Amanda didn't envy them one bit. She spent the evening folding laundry, coloring with Jesse and giving Luca a bath, which was all delightfully benign in comparison to what she would have been doing at work. For Amanda, it was all a part of a delicate balance that she was still trying to get the hang of. She loved her job and she loved her kids, so she did her best to divide up her energy appropriately. Her role as a mother was so vastly different from that of a detective, but she couldn't imagine feeling whole unless she was both of those things. She felt lucky that she had never been forced to choose between them.

In bed alone, Amanda fell asleep relatively easily, curled up on her side beneath cool, clean sheets. It was only when she sensed the weight of the mattress shift that she woke up gradually, bleary eyes adjusting to the lack of light. She didn't know what time it was, but given how warm and hazy she felt, she was fairly confident that she had been asleep for at least several hours.

"You're back late," she murmured, lashes fluttering closed again as she remained comfortable in her spot.

"Bad night," Sonny responded. There was a distinct heaviness to his tone.

"What happened?" Amanda asked curiously. "College kids?"

She felt his chest press against her back, his body parallel behind hers. "I wish," he said into her hair. A hand wandered over her hip, his warm palm sliding beneath the fabric of her t-shirt to settle against the bare skin of her abdomen.

"What was it?"

Sonny sighed. "Six year old kid," he began quietly. "His mom's boyfriend was holdin' his hand over the stove to punish him for something. He had third degree burns. I feel like I'm never gonna smell anything else ever again."

His explanation was gruesome enough that Amanda opened her eyes. "What did-"

"Let's not talk about it," he mumbled, interrupting her. The hand against her strayed, drifting upward over her ribcage. His fingers lazily traced patterns around the curve of her breast, then her nipple.

She shivered at the unexpected sensation, a little smile tugging at her mouth. "'K."

"How was your night?" he asked casually, palm sliding back down the center of her torso.

"Uneventful," Amanda told him honestly.

"That's good," he replied.

"You miss me?" she asked impishly.

"Mhm." Sonny nudged at the waistband of her underwear, slipping underneath to tease her with the pads of his fingers.

She wriggled against him reflexively with a sharp intake of breath. "Good."

"Did ya miss _me?_ "

The deliberate circular movement of his fingers was frustratingly slow. Her eyes fluttered closed as she arched her back, looking for more, willing him to speed up. She allowed herself to enjoy how he toyed with her, her heart rate increasing, until she eventually spoke. "A little bit," she admitted with a smirk, although she knew her body was giving her away.

"Only a little bit?"

She ever-so-slightly shifted her hips along with the rhythm of his touch. "Mhm."

"Feels like you missed me more than that," he observed smugly into her shoulder. He dipped a finger inside of her, but only for an infuriatingly brief moment.

Grinning, Amanda turned her head, a hand reaching behind her to rest on his cheek as she kissed him. "Shut up and fuck me already," she murmured against his lips.

He snickered quietly, victoriously, into her mouth. He slowly pulled his fingers away and she immediately missed his touch, a distinct aching warmth beginning to radiate throughout her. She lifted her hips so Sonny could drag the fabric of her underwear downward; beneath the sheets, she bent her knee and used a toe to slide them over her calves and ankles. She remained on her side, liking that she couldn't quite see what Sonny was doing, the element of surprise always exciting to her. She felt his hand rove over her ass, strong and possessive, before he pulled her top leg back over his thigh. She pressed back against him, feeling him hard between them, and she made a soft noise of approval at the contact.

Sonny exhaled an audible breath into her neck when he pushed inside of her, like the sensation was a relief. She hoped that now he was very far away from whatever terrible things he had encountered that night, because she was certainly no longer tired. Amanda reached her top arm over his shoulder, fingers blindly curling into the lean muscle of his lower back. He gripped her hip, holding her in place as he began to move in and out of her at a languid but steady pace. Then his predictably greedy hand began to wander, groping her beneath her t-shirt before drifting back between her thighs. Eyes closed, she let out a contented sigh at the return of his skilled fingers.

"You feel so good," he groaned quietly into the space just below her ear, mouth and hot breath grazing the sensitive skin there.

"I lied," Amanda rasped, suddenly undone enough to concede. "I missed you more than a little bit."

* * *

"Amanda! Get in here."

The urgency in Sonny's voice rang out through the apartment on an otherwise uneventful Tuesday evening, getting Amanda's attention as she emerged soaking wet from her shower. Alarmed, she tied a towel around herself and sprinted into the bedroom, carelessly dripping water everywhere as she did.

"What? What is it?" she asked anxiously, bursting into the room to find nothing immediately out of the ordinary.

Sonny sat on the edge of their bed, holding up her iPhone displaying a notification. "You got an e-mail," he told her ominously. "I think it's _the_ e-mail."

Eyeing him skeptically, Amanda snatched her phone from his hand and opened up her mail. Of course, he was right: in her inbox sat correspondence from the testing center, letting her know that her exam results were finally available. All she had to do was click a link, log in and look at the 'pass' list. "Oh, God. I can't look at it," she moaned, her stomach clenched tight with anxiety. She looked up at Sonny and threw her phone onto the bed as if it was suddenly on fire. "You open it."

He looked both surprised and uneasy. "Y'want me to?"

"Yeah," she insisted nervously, beginning to pace, gripping her towel to her body. "Yeah, just do it."

"Okay..." he agreed slowly, hesitantly picking her phone up off of the comforter. "What's your log-in stuff?"

"My ID is number 923454," she recited. She had memorized it in preparation for this particular moment. "The password is 'Frannie30052.'"

"How come Frannie's your password and not, like, me?" Sonny asked, appearing somewhat offended as his thumb hovered over the screen.

"Who would use you as a password?" Amanda asked incredulously.

He gave his head a small but haughty shake side to side. "I dunno, I like to think that I have a very distinct-"

"Just log me in, Sonny!" she interrupted him frantically, pausing her pacing as she debated taking matters back into her own hands.

"Okay, okay..." he resigned, obediently continuing to type in her information.

"Wait!" she cried after a moment, her panic escalating as she realized how important this was to her, how hard she had worked, how embarrassing it would be to admit to everybody that she had failed...

"What?!" he groaned, eyeing her with frustration.

"Just. Wait. I can't," Amanda babbled breathlessly. "Oh my God, if I fail, I have to wait two years to take it again and Liv's gonna be so-"

Sonny put his free hand up to stop her, eyes on the screen, reading it despite her harried request. "Remember, seventeen hundred people took this exam this round and only seven percent pass-" He stopped abruptly. "Holy shit."

"What? What is it? Did I pass? Jesus Christ, Sonny, just read it!" she practically shrieked, flooded with a wave of nausea.

"Forty-five." He looked up at her, wide-eyed. "You got the forty-fifth highest score out of seventeen hundred people."

"I passed?" she squeaked.

"You did more than pass, 'Manda," he told her with a chuckle, moving off of the bed to stand next to her. "You're in the top fifty. Look." He held out the phone for her to take.

With trembling fingers, Amanda took the device from Sonny. She read the screen once, twice, three times before she was sufficiently convinced he hadn't made some terrible mistake (which she would have never forgiven him for if he had, of course). "Oh, thank God," she breathed, pressing a hand to her heart, which was pounding furiously.

"Way to go, Sarge!" Sonny whooped, wrapping an arm around her wet shoulders and kissing the side of her head enthusiastically. "I told ya you'd pass!"

She felt like crying. No, she _was_ crying - or at least tears were welling up in her eyes as she stood there, overwhelmed with surprise and relief. Weeks of waiting for the results had taken a toll on her; she had started to assume the worst.

"Are you crying?" he laughed, squeezing her into his side. "You better get this all outta your system now, there's no cryin' in upper management."

She sniffed, quickly flicking her knuckles beneath her eyes to get rid of any evidence. "What? No, I'm just..."

"I love it when you get all sappy on me," Sonny sighed dramatically, wearing a smirk. He gave her ass a playful swat and began to walk out of the bedroom backwards, eyeing her expectantly with a grin. "Put some clothes on. We're goin' out to dinner. This deserves a celebration."

Amanda turned around and began to protest, never one for extra attention. "Sonny-"

"Nope," he called to her, now out of sight. "You can officially start orderin' me around at work, but never when it comes to food."


	17. Chapter 17

Amanda was drunk.

She couldn't help it - people kept buying her congratulatory drinks at Forlini's that night. The day after she had found out that she had passed the Sergeant's exam, true to form, Sonny had blabbed it to everybody. He was so enthusiastic that she half-expected him to hire a plane and put it in sky-writing, but Amanda had to appreciate the way he so freely and consistently reveled in other people's joy. The delivery of the news didn't matter to her - once she knew she had passed, she didn't care about much else.

Liv had insisted upon an informal celebration after work and Amanda was flattered by how many people showed up. NYPD was rife with its issues, but even so, they eagerly celebrated one another's successes. She lost hours catching up with friends and colleagues, some of whom who had long since transferred to different units and precincts but took the time to come out and congratulate her anyway. Cragen swung by briefly, followed by Munch, which thrilled Amanda. It reminded her of just how much she missed their wisdom and experience. She eventually found herself wrapped up in a detailed conversation with John about the evils of pharmaceutical companies when she felt Sonny come up behind her, his hand at her lower back.

"They're closin' and kickin' us out, Amanda," he told her, draining his beer bottle and setting it on top of the bar they were leaned against.

She frowned, disappointed. "We just got here!"

"Yeah... five hours ago," he laughed.

"Oh, oops." She teetered on her boots as she knocked back the last of her whiskey neat.

"Easy there, Sarge. Let's go, c'mon." Sonny grabbed her arm to steady her.

"I'm _comin'_ ," Amanda insisted before she flung her arms around Munch to give him a hug.

She said her goodbyes to the remaining guests before following Sonny and stepping outside. It was dark and cool out, the ideal temperature to sleep with all of the windows open, she thought. Amanda saw rain drops falling, illuminated by a street lamp.

"Ah, shit. When did it start raining?" Sonny asked, lingering under the awning.

She stepped out onto the sidewalk, uncovered, holding her arms out to feel the rain against her upturned palms. The precipitation was light, sporadic, but it felt nice. She screwed her eyes shut and tilted her face toward the sky, welcoming the droplets, the sensation reminding her of something. "When I ran track, I used to love to practice in the rain. Makes you feel like... powerful."

"You wanna run home?" she heard Sonny joke.

Amanda opened her eyes and grinned. "Nah. You'd lose."

He eyed her skeptically. "My legs are longer than yours."

"I think we both know I'm faster than you, Carisi," she said with an emphatic point of her finger in his direction, although she was discredited somewhat by the way she wobbled on her heels.

"Oh yeah? You think so?" Looking smug, Sonny crossed his arms over his chest. "I will race you to... the Spring street station, right now."

She shook her head. "Nope."

"C'mon, Rollins. You scared?" he challenged her, mischief bright in his eyes.

Those were the magic words. "Of course I'm not," Amanda exclaimed, suddenly energized. "I'll race you. Come here. Our mark is right... here." She tapped her toe on a big crack in the sidewalk.

Sonny smirked as he joined her out from underneath the awning. He lined his foot up with hers. "Who says 'go?'"

"Me."

"No, I should."

"No, me."

"It was my idea."

Amanda heaved a sigh. She looked around them and spotted a relatively unassuming-looking man walking in their direction, brief case swinging at his side, his eyes on his phone. "Excuse me, sir?" she called to him sweetly as he approached. "Could you please do us a favor? Could you please count down our race?"

The man stopped and looked curiously between the two detectives. "Uh, okay..." he agreed hesitantly, like he wasn't sure what he was getting himself into.

"No cheating," Amanda ordered Sonny.

"Oh, whatever," Sonny scoffed.

The stranger cleared his throat to get their attention.

"Sorry, sorry, we're ready," she told him.

"Um, alright. On your marks..." the man began. "Get set... go!"

Amanda launched herself forward and started to run. The station was five blocks away and the path was littered with obstacles: pedestrians, trash cans, food carts. It was a lot different than sprinting down a dirt path in Georgia or on a pristine track, but she wove around them all with the kind of grace a drunk person should not possess. Sonny was close behind her, practically on top of her, his strides naturally longer than hers since he was five inches taller than she was.

"Ah, sorry, NYPD, comin' through!" she called breathlessly to the confused people on the sidewalk that she barreled past, all of whom had the right to wonder why two adults dressed in nice professional attire were sprinting down Lafayette street at eleven o'clock at night.

When Spring street was in sight, Amanda increased her speed, hair flying behind her, determined to win. She couldn't believe how slow Sonny was - was he letting her win? Whatever, she didn't care. When she was within an arm's length of the station's entrance, she was already giddy with her victory. "Ha! I told-"

Suddenly Sonny's body collided with her own from behind, his long arms wrapping her up in an aggressive backward hug, effectively stopping Amanda in her tracks.

"Hey!" she cried, wriggling breathlessly in his tight embrace, laughing despite her attempt at seeming indignant. "You are disqualified!"

"Oops," he laughed into the top of her head, his chest rising and falling rapidly against her back.

She jabbed him in the ribs with her elbow. "I win," Amanda declared, spinning around in his arms.

His fingertips brushed her unruly bangs away from her forehead and eyes as he grinned down at her. "Still love me, Sarge?"

Smiling, she reached up, squishing his handsome face between her palms. He was so goofy, so fun, sometimes she just wanted to take a delicious bite out of him. "Always."

* * *

Sonny's birthday fell on a bright, lazy Saturday. His party was later at night, but of course, he didn't know anything about that. In the morning they sat on the couch with warm mugs of coffee, the baby squirming around in her lap while Jesse assembled a puzzle on the living room floor. Hours earlier, Amanda and Sonny had been tangled up in bed, blissfully undisturbed as the rest of the house slept.

"So. What's it like being old? Is it time to stop throwing away those AARP pamphlets that keep comin' in the mail?" Amanda asked Sonny with a smirk. Luca tugged at the loose strands of hair around her face that had fallen from her ponytail, and when she redirected his hands, he started pulling at her necklace instead.

"Ha ha, very funny," Sonny replied with a roll of his eyes from his spot next to her. "You're right behind me."

She chose to ignore that fact. "Jess, go get your present," Amanda reminded her daughter, only just remembering it herself. "It's on your bookshelf, remember?"

"Oh yeah!" the little girl chirped, scrambling to get up from the floor to run into her bedroom.

Jesse eventually emerged with a stack of sloppily painted pictures consisting of colorful acrylic streaks and blobs, which she proudly presented to Sonny. "I made them," she announced, just in case that was not obvious.

"Wow, Jesse, these are awesome," he told her enthusiastically as he sifted through them. "You made _all_ of these?"

"Yes I did," she said proudly, crowding his side on the couch to observe her own work.

The last piece of paper in the pile was a list that Amanda had written but her daughter had dictated. Her neat handwriting was in the middle, while the borders were painted and colored by Jesse.

 _Ten Things I Love About Dad:_

 _1\. He catches bad guys with mama._

 _2\. He teaches me baseball._

 _3\. His hair._

 _4\. He takes me to the coffee shop to get a blueberry muffin._

 _5\. He protects me when I am scared._

 _6\. Every time I don't know how to do something he helps me._

 _7\. He makes good food._

 _8\. He gets Frannie to do tricks._

 _9\. He makes me laugh._

 _10\. He makes me happy!_

 _HAPPY BIRTHDAY! Love, Jesse_

Amanda watched Sonny's facial expression as he read down the list. He was grinning, his eyes big and adoring, and that made her smile, too.

"Mom wrote it but it came from my brain," Jesse explained.

"This is the best present I've ever gotten," Sonny assured her, obvious emotion in his voice, and Amanda knew that he meant it. He put his long arm over Jesse's little shoulders and squeezed her close. "I love it, Jess. Thank you."

"Number three is my favorite," Amanda said with an amused grin, leaning in to eye the list.

"Hey, I've always told you that Jesse's a genius," he told her smugly, ruffling the toddler's hair lovingly.

* * *

"You're wearing that?"

Amanda paused applying her mascara in the mirror when she caught sight of Sonny pulling on an old, navy blue Met's t-shirt to accompany his dark jeans. His surprise party was that night and fifty people - family, friends and coworkers - were planning on coming. Fifty people who were most likely aware that Sonny Carisi had a serious affinity for Mets merchandise, but Amanda had really been hoping that he would choose to wear quite literally anything else.

Over the years she had discreetly thrown some of his more hideous baseball attire away - a dingy t-shirt here, a zip-up with holes in it there - and Sonny had only caught her doing it one time. That had been a bad day. He had had a meltdown that rivaled a toddler's and talked about it for two weeks, as if Amanda had murdered his entire family instead of merely donating a threadbare Piazza hoodie to some freezing cold homeless person. Her Braves items were precious to her, of course, but she had hardly amassed the huge collection that Sonny proudly called his - and nothing she owned had holes in it.

She was not wearing a t-shirt to his party. She wasn't in a ballgown, either, but at least she had put some effort into her outfit. She had chosen a wispy black off-the-shoulder shirt over dark skinny jeans and heeled booties, delicate gold earrings hanging amid strands of her long blonde hair. Amanda supposed that in terms of picking out her clothes, she had the advantage of knowing what they were going to walk into that night - Sonny just thought they were going out for dinner and drinks.

"What's wrong with it? It's a t-shirt," Sonny remarked, looking down at himself, perplexed by her question.

"That's the problem," she muttered.

"Is my gray Mets shirt better?" he offered brightly. "The dark gray one, not the light gray one."

"How about like... not a Mets shirt at all," she suggested gently.

"What else am I supposed to wear?" he exclaimed, appearing truly confused.

She turned around and looked at him in disbelief. "Sonny, you're thirty seven years old. A shirt with buttons, I'm begging you," Amanda pleaded.

"I wear one of those every day. It's my birthday, I should be able to wear whatever I want," he challenged her immaturely.

She sighed and gave a dismissive wave of her mascara wand, then turned back around to finish coating her lashes with black. "Fine. Wear it. Be a manchild," she grumbled, defeated.

"Hey, you're supposed to be nice to me on my birthday," Sonny retorted.

"I was nice to you twice this morning, remember?" she reminded him mischievously.

She saw him smirk in the reflection of the mirror.

An idea occurred to her suddenly. "Hey, you want your present before we go?" Amanda asked, swiping beneath her eyes with a finger to pick up any stray make-up.

"You got me a present?"

"Of course I did. What's a birthday without presents?" she said incredulously with a laugh.

"Well, okay, yeah."

Amanda walked over to their closet and began digging around for a particular shoe box where she had hidden his gift inside yesterday. She figured it was safe to assume that Sonny wouldn't be rooting around there for a pair of nude peep-toe pumps. She emerged with a cube-shaped box, wrapped neatly in navy blue wrapping paper with a gold bow. Inside sat a sleek and classic gold Movado watch, the back of the face engraved with his name. It had been expensive, but she had wanted to buy him something special, so she had set aside any overtime pay she had accrued to buy it.

She handed it to Sonny with a smile. "Happy birthday."

First he opened up the small card that hung from the box like a tag, which read verses from one of Amanda's favorite poems before she jotted her own note below it:

 _Even_

 _After_

 _All this time_

 _The Sun never says_

 _To the Earth, "You owe me."_

 _Look_

 _What happens with a love like that._

 _It lights the_

 _Whole_

 _Sky._

 _Sonny - I'm so glad you were born. Thank you for lighting up my life. Happy birthday. I love you. xo Amanda_

"Aw. Wow. That's so sweet," he said huskily before giving her a kiss. "Thank you."

"You haven't even opened the actual present yet!" Amanda laughed, pressing her hands gently against his chest.

He tore into the wrapping paper, letting it fall to the floor as he revealed the sturdy box underneath. Carefully, he pulled off the top to reveal the watch tucked inside cushioning. Amanda watched Sonny's eyes widen as he blinked down at the gold glinting in the light of their bedroom.

His mouth hung open. "Amanda... This is..."

"Do you like it?" she asked him anxiously.

"This is amazing," Sonny breathed. "It's... beautiful."

"Put it on!" she urged him excitedly.

He carefully pulled the watch from its confines and she took the box from him while he slid it onto his wrist. Snapping the metal together easily, it rested there snugly.

"Ooh, very nice," she murmured approvingly.

"I can't wear it with this old shirt," he blurted, suddenly horrified. "I gotta change!"

Amanda smiled smugly to herself.


	18. Chapter 18

Hi guys, clearly this is not a new chapter. I wanted to let you all know that my life has gotten a bit unexpectedly crazy. My boss at the clinic I work for is leaving and I've been asked to take on many of her responsibilities. Professionally, it's an awesome opportunity! I love the work I do. But in terms of updating this stuff as frequently as I typically do, that will be trickier. Just be patient with me as I adjust! I promise I won't leave you hanging. As always, thank you all _**SO**_ much for reading and for all of your kind words. -Angela


	19. Chapter 19

**AN:** Thanks for being patient, friends! Birthday-drunk Sonny (and some other stuff) ahead!

* * *

Gallow Green was a rooftop bar located atop the McKittrick Hotel in Chelsea. Just south of Hell's Kitchen, it was a rustic, garden atmosphere lush with greenery and plants that felt very far away from the city despite the spectacular view of it. The outdoor lounge was casual, made up of benches, flower trellises covered in vines and an old subway car that now served as additional seating. Strings of lights hung everywhere and twinkled against the foliage. To get up to the roof, one had to take an ancient elevator (complete with an elevator operator) in the dark to the top. Very much hidden away, the venue was the ideal spot for a surprise party.

Amanda had collaborated with Sonny's mother to arrange a guest list. She would have been a fool not to - Mrs. Carisi could plan a party with her eyes closed. She had initially been concerned that his family would ruin the surprise since none of them could keep a secret, but if Sonny knew anything about it, he certainly didn't show it. He thought they were getting dinner and drinks and appeared very enthusiastic about the opportunity to try somewhere new. Then again, he was enthusiastic about most things. Wearing his new watch, he changed his shirt to a black button-down (which Amanda made sure to compliment him on) and talked the entire cab ride to the bar.

It was hard to covertly text his mother with Sonny hanging on her, but thankfully the old elevator was very slow and he was distracted by a well-timed history lesson from the operator. Quick thumbs dispatched the message _we're here_ before Amanda shoved her phone back into her pocket. Arriving at the top, they walked down a hallway to find only darkness through the windows and big glass door that led out to the patio.

"'Manda, I think it's closed. We shoulda called," Sonny said with a frown as they got closer.

"Oh?" She did her best to sound perplexed as she looked around.

He pointed up ahead. "Yeah, look, it's dark out there."

"Are you sure? This can't be right. This place is confusing, maybe we're on the wrong side of the roof," Amanda suggested, hovering behind him.

Clearly skeptical, Sonny pulled open the door to prove his point. "It's closed. It's pitch black out here-"

" _Surprise!_ "

A chorus of voices erupted in cheers as the lights flickered on, revealing a crowd of familiar guests that had taken over the rooftop space.

"What the hell?" Sonny exclaimed, his tone of total shock a victory for Amanda.

From her position behind him, she set a hand on each of his upper arms as she peered around his tall frame with a grin. "Happy birthday!"

"Wow, I can't... _wow._ Hi, everyone!" he said gleefully. He looked over at Amanda in wide-eyed amazement. "For a second I thought you were leading me up here to kill me or somethin'."

People laughed, Amanda included. "No, but I'll keep that in mind as an option for the future," she told him with a smirk.

Sonny was almost immediately absorbed into the mass of party-goers, exchanging hugs and continued expressions of surprise. Amanda hung back slightly, smiling, relieved that it had all gone according to plan. It made her happy to see Sonny so genuinely pleased; she knew that one of his greatest joys in life was to simply be around the people he loved. To arrange a surprise party consisting of friends and family was, in Amanda's opinion, the least she could do for a man who had repeatedly gone above and beyond for her. It was important that Sonny understood how valued he was. So for his birthday, she wanted to show him that his kind, generous nature didn't go unappreciated - especially not by her.

Sonny's mother appeared at her side and grabbed her arm. "I was so nervous!" she exclaimed. She looked her daughter-in-law up and down. "You look pretty."

"Thanks," Amanda said with a smile. "So do you. Thank you so much for helpin' me with all of this."

Mrs. Carisi gave a dismissive wave of her hand. "Don't thank me for that. You know how I like this stuff. All I did was make a few phone calls, you did the rest."

When Sonny's mother got pulled away by another guest, soon Amanda was wrapped up in hugs from Sonny's sisters instead. All of them were chattering excitedly with drinks already in hand.

"This place is amazing. Did you know they shot that movie here... oh, what's it called? I dunno, something very fancy," Teresa tittered eagerly.

"Some Shakespeare thing. I googled it on the way here," Gina told her sister before turning to Amanda. "The kids are at home?"

"Of course they are, Gina. Who brings an infant and a four year old to a rooftop bar?" Bella scoffed in reply.

"She's a little irritable because she's knocked up again," Gina grumbled.

Amanda's eyes widened in surprise.

" _Gina!_ " Teresa sputtered, practically choking on her cocktail.

"I am not _irritable_ , you just say dumb things," Bella retorted. She lowered her voice and added slyly to Amanda, "I am pregnant, though. Don't tell anybody. Nobody knows yet."

She reached out and touched Bella's arm, smiling. "Congratulations," she whispered excitedly. She sincerely doubted that it would be a secret for very long with the way the Carisi family talked.

"Amanda! C'mere!" Fin called from the bar, waving her over.

"'Scuse me for a sec," she said to the three women before slipping away to approach her partner. He stood with Liv and Barba, his expression mischievous. "What's happening over here?"

"I bought you a shot," Fin explained, tossing cash onto the bar's surface.

"I'm too old for shots, Fin," Amanda protested with a laugh.

"I'm doin' one and I'm twice your age," he retorted, lining up the small glasses of amber liquid.

"Maybe your judgement is deteriorating," she quipped.

"I'm just here to supervise," Barba told them haughtily, sipping what was sure to be the most expensive liquor available as he looked on in amusement.

"Carisi, c'mon," Fin called to Sonny. "It's your birthday, man. You gotta do one."

Sonny looked over at them, mid conversation with two of his friends. "Okay," he answered without hesitation as he wandered over.

She rolled her eyes but didn't dare try to refuse again. She picked up a shot between her fingers and held it up, waiting for Fin to say something.

"Alright," Fin said, holding up his glass with a flourish. "Happy birthday, Carisi. Congrats on stayin' alive another year."

* * *

Amanda had three drinks, but Sonny had eight - at least, that was his estimation thus far. His cheeks were rosy and the gait of his long limbs was a little clumsier than usual, but he was smiling, and that's all she really cared about. She had spent the majority of the night apart from him, both of them separately socializing, until Sonny intercepted her on her way to the bar and pulled her onto his lap. She didn't protest, just draped an arm over his shoulder as she perched on his knee, her chin making contact with the side of his head.

"Where's your drink?" Sonny asked, an arm sliding around her waist so his hand could settle on her thigh.

"I was on my way to get one just now," she explained with a laugh.

"Here. Have some of mine. It's bourbon and... some other stuff," he told her vaguely, brandishing his glass.

"Ugh, germs," she joked immaturely, nose scrunched as she took the drink from him and sipped it anyway. It was really good and she wondered if he would ask for it back.

He turned his head and tilted his face upward to catch her in a kiss. "I think I recall that you enjoy my-"

"You guys are disgusting," Fin's voice interrupted Sonny.

Amanda snorted and pulled away, giving her partner a pointed look over her shoulder. "Save it, old man."

"I appreciate you comin' out, Fin. I know it's way past your bed time," Sonny joked, then sat up a little straighter suddenly. "Hey. Get everybody's attention, I wanna thank them, too."

After giving Sonny his steeliest glare, Fin used his most authoritative tone to call out, "hey, everybody, listen up!"

It was a hard voice to ignore, so everybody stopped talking and laughing and turned their attention to Fin curiously. Sonny sat up straighter again, jostling Amanda a little in the process. She could have slipped off of his lap and hidden in the crowd (which would have been her preference, given all of the eyes in their direction), but he wanted her there, so she stayed. She had absolutely no idea what was going to come out of Sonny's mouth, but she figured that everybody had been drinking long enough to eventually forget anything that had the potential to be embarrassing.

"I just wanted to thank everybody for comin'... this is the best birthday ever," Sonny explained to the crowd of flushed and smiling faces. "Well, maybe aside from when I was sixteen and got my driver's license. That was a good birthday, too. Anyway. This is better. I especially wanna thank my beautiful wife Amanda for organizing all this on top of all the other stuff she does all day, like bein' an amazing mother and detective - excuse me, sergeant."

Surprised, Amanda felt her cheeks heating up from the collective _awww_ from the crowd. She dropped her chin to murmur shyly into the side of his head, "love you, baby."

His hand squeezed her thigh. "So, yeah. It really means a lot to me, seein' all the people I love in one place," Sonny continued. "It's like... my favorite thing, probably. So thank you."

People hooted and hollered in response and Sonny grinned. Amanda had to smile, too. As always, his happiness was hers.

* * *

"C'mon, I'll get us an Uber," Amanda said as she stood on the sidewalk with Sonny at two in the morning.

"I'm starvin'," Sonny announced loudly, ignoring her suggestion. A curl of hair hung loose over his forehead and the sleeves of his shirt were rolled up over his elbows as his glassy blue eyes looked around. He was definitely drunk.

"Uh, excuse me? Only poor people starve, according to your mother," she quipped, eyebrow raised.

"Eh, whatever. I need a piece of pizza. Where the hell are we?" Swaying in place, he jabbed a finger purposefully at the screen of his brand new watch before starting to snicker. "Oh, wrong watch, haha."

Arms crossed over her chest, she watched him in growing amusement. "We're only in Chelsea."

Sonny's brow furrowed like he was thinking very hard. "Oh yeah. Yeah. Okay... Chelsea, yeah. West 23rd street, that's Chelsea Pizza. They're open till five in the mornin'." With that, he began walking away, determined.

Amanda knew better than to get in the way of him finding food. "Why the hell do you know that?" she asked curiously as she matched his pace. She linked her arm with his, keeping up with his stride.

"Maybe in my previous life I partied all night and got hungry after," he suggested vaguely, smirking over at her.

"You definitely didn't."

"You don't know that. Maybe I went to... to clubs and shit all the time."

"When was this life, exactly?"

"You know, awhile ago."

"Alright, Sonny, sure." Amanda couldn't help it: she suddenly started laughing uncontrollably at the preposterous image she had conjured, at how firmly he had asserted it as fact.

"What?!" he exclaimed, looking over at her in genuine confusion as they rounded a corner.

"Nothing, nothing. I just... you in a club, like dancing and stuff, I can't..." Amanda choked breathlessly with a wave of her free hand, her stomach beginning to hurt from laughter.

"Hey, it isn't that far-fetched of an idea!" Sonny insisted, yanking open the door to the pizza place and wobbling a little on his feet as he held it open for her.

"Was this before or after that horrible mustache?" she asked, brushing tears away from her eyes while she slipped past him into the restaurant.

He glared at her as he got in line to order, several people ahead of him. "That was a phase!"

"One never to be repeated." Amanda wagged her finger in warning. "Along with this alleged club-hopping you did."

"Too old to hop now," Sonny grumbled.

Behind him, she wrapped her arms around his torso and rested her cheek against his back in a backwards hug. "You got that right. Too old and too married."

He heaved a melodramatic sigh as he peered at the pizza underneath the glass counter top. "Whaddya want?"

"I'll just have a bite of yours," she told him sweetly.

Sonny shook his head defiantly. "Oh no. No, no, Rollins. You'll eat it all."

It had taken him over four years, but he had finally figured her tactic out. Amanda stood up and crossed her arms over her chest. "Fine. Pepperoni."

They each left the dingy storefront with a giant piece of pizza, holding paper plates beneath them as they walked and ate simultaneously. They didn't have a particular destination in mind - they would get home somehow, at some point - but the night air was perfectly cool and the kids were taken care of, so they weren't in any rush.

"Did you have a good birthday?" Amanda asked in between bites.

"Mm," Sonny replied, mouth full. "That was great. All of it. So much fun. I can't believe you kept it a secret."

"You're the one with the big mouth, not me."

"Eh, true."

She grinned.

He reached a long arm over her shoulders and squeezed her into his side clumsily. "Thank you. You're the best wife I've ever had."

"I'm the only wife you've ever had," Amanda reminded him.

"I was bein' romantic," Sonny explained.

"Ah, I see," she said with a faux-serious nod. "Well, you're the best husband I've ever had."

"I better be," he retorted with a smirk.

She laughed and purposefully bumped into his side again. No, there was absolutely no other husband Amanda would prefer to eat mediocre pizza at two in the morning with.

* * *

Amanda went out to get bagels and coffee on Sunday morning. Jesse was awake when she returned from the quick trip, hair wild and pajamas still on, anxious for breakfast. Luca was standing up in his crib, holding on to the railing while simultaneously gnawing on it. The bedroom door was still closed, which indicated to Amanda that Sonny was still sleeping off his inevitable hangover.

She took several sips of her coffee before beginning to assemble a bottle for the baby. "Hey, Jesse," she said from the kitchen. "Go look in the bag on the table. I got you a special bagel."

"A special bagel?" her daughter repeated before Amanda heard her clambering onto a chair and diving into the paper bag. "Whoa! It's a rainbow!"

Amanda smiled. The bagel was plain, but made of multi-colored dough. It was so bright she was certain one could see it from space, but she knew Jesse would think it was amazing.

"How is it rainbow?" she asked excitedly, awestruck.

"I dunno. Magic, probably," Amanda said with a shrug. She walked over to Luca and picked him up to offer him his bottle. He took it immediately; his eager _mamamama_ 's had started the second he had laid eyes on it. Once she guided it to his mouth, his small hands held it there.

Momentarily distracted, she wasn't paying attention to Jesse, so she didn't hear her little feet running across the apartment. Before Amanda could stop her, Jesse was barging into the bedroom, bagel in hand while practically screaming, "look at what mom got me!"

"Jesse!" she hissed, rushing over to her. "Get back here!"

It was too late: she was crawling on to the bed, determined. She heard Sonny groan beneath a tangle of sheets, but Jesse wasn't the best at reading social cues, so she stuck the bagel in his face anyway. "It's magic!" she chirped.

"Alright, alright, come on. No bagels in bed," Amanda said hurriedly, hovering at the side of the bed and reaching for her daughter.

"I'm up now. I'm up," Sonny grumbled, emerging from the blankets, bleary-eyed and hair a mess. "What... what is goin' on?" He squinted over at Jesse, confused. "That's a bagel?"

"Uh huh," the little girl said proudly.

"You woke me up to show me a bagel?"

"Yes."

Sonny half laughed, half groaned into his palms as he ran them roughly over his face. "You're lucky I love you."

* * *

Monday arrived, like it always did. Luckily, it was relatively uneventful in comparison to the Mondays that had come before it recently. In the afternoon, Amanda had time to type up paperwork she had been neglecting, her fingers flying over the keyboard of her laptop, determined to leave at a reasonable hour that day. When her cell phone rang, she distractedly picked it up after seeing the name on the screen, cradling it between her shoulder and ear as she worked.

"Hey, Audrey. What's up?"

"Hey. Did Sonny pick Jesse up from school by any chance?" Audrey asked.

"Huh? No, he's here with me," Amanda replied, confused.

"He is?"

"Yeah... we're both working till six tonight. Why?"

"The receptionist, I... when I went to go pick Jesse up, the girl at the desk said that somebody already had. Her father already had," Audrey explained, sounding nervous.

Amanda stopped typing. Now Audrey had her full attention. "What? She isn't at school?"

"No! They said her dad signed her out already," the younger woman told her weakly. "I knew you would have told me if I didn't need to get her..."

"Of course I would have. Okay, let me call Declan, alright?" Amanda said quickly before hanging up and swiping through her contacts.

She was immediately anxious. Declan was arrogant enough to take it upon himself to pick Jesse up from school without telling anyone, which was infuriating, but Amanda still hoped it actually _was_ him and not some predator. She couldn't help but assume the worst. She was disheartened when his phone rang repeatedly but only the voicemail picked up - it did nothing to quell her fears.

"Declan, it's Amanda," she began to leave a message. "Did you pick Jesse up from school without telling me? Audrey said she isn't there and I'm starting to freak out... can you call me back as soon as you get this? Thanks..."

Sonny wandered over to her desk after finishing his battle with the fax machine, hands in his pockets as he looked down at her. "What's the matter?"

"Audrey said Jesse isn't at school," Amanda told him. "That her father picked her up."

"Huh? Why would Murphy do that?" he asked, looking as confused as she felt.

"I don't know..." She ran her fingers through her hair. "But I called him and he didn't answer."

"He can't just decide to pick her up from school one day without tellin' anybody," Sonny asserted, appearing almost offended.

Amanda was back on her phone again, looking for the preschool's number. She hoped someone would pick up and have an explanation that would make her feel better.

"Queensview School," a energetic female voice answered.

"Hi, I'm Jesse Rollins' mother," Amanda said eagerly. "And I'm wondering who picked her up today? There seems to be some confusion..."

"Oh, Jesse?" the woman replied. "Her father took her home today."

"No, he didn't," Amanda insisted. "I mean, he's not on the list. Only three people pick up Jesse from school."

"Well, I'm certain she called him 'dad.'"

Amanda rested her forehead in her hand and closed her eyes. Now she was more aggravated than scared. "What did he look like?"

The woman was silent for a moment, then answered, "um... late forties, beard, long-ish hair..."


	20. Chapter 20

"Declan, I've called you five times. Where the hell are you? Call me!" Amanda said angrily into her phone as she entered her apartment that evening, Sonny close behind her. Inside, she slammed the phone down on the kitchen counter and pressed her hand to her forehead, frustrated and anxious as she tried to figure out what to do next.

"Where's Jesse?" Audrey asked nervously, leaping up from the couch.

Amanda looked around: Audrey was wringing her hands, brown eyes wide, clearly concerned. Frannie hovered excitedly at Sonny's feet and the baby sat oblivious on his play mat in the middle of the living room.

"I can't get a hold of Declan," Amanda told Audrey. "I've been trying for hours."

"Why wouldn't he answer you? What could he possibly be doing?" Audrey blurted, her obvious panic only serving to further fuel Amanda's.

"I have no idea," she replied weakly. "I called the school again: it was definitely him who picked her up. They said they left around three forty-five and Murphy only lives on the lower east side."

"I think we should just go over there," Sonny finally declared. "We should go to his apartment."

"No, _I'll_ go over there," Amanda corrected him stubbornly. "Alone."

"No, you won't. You're not goin' by yourself," he challenged her.

She rolled her eyes, in no mood for Sonny's attempt at chivalry even if it was well-intentioned. "Don't be ridiculous."

"I'm not bein' ridiculous," Sonny insisted, visibly aggravated by her protest. "I don't trust him. I never have, and now he's really pissed me off."

"And you think that'll be helpful?" she asked sharply, sarcastically.

He crossed his arms over his chest; he wasn't going to back down. "I think you need a witness."

"I'll stay with the baby and Frannie. I don't mind," Audrey offered meekly, looking cautiously between the two detectives.

Amanda was becoming so anxious that she couldn't muster the desire to put up more of a fight - every second she felt like she wasn't doing _something_ was only feeding into her mounting dread. "Fine. Just... fine. Let's go," she resigned, picking up her phone again. "Audrey, thank you."

Amanda and Sonny hailed a taxi in terse silence. Once she gave the cabbie Declan's address and they pulled away from the curb, she felt like the twenty minute drive was taking a lifetime to complete. It was rush hour, too, which made the journey all the more torturous. She kept her mouth clenched shut, eyes out the window, her mind vividly creating all of the possible horrifying scenarios Jesse could be in. Was Declan doing this to get back at her? To scare her? Was this better or worse than some other, strange person abducting her from her sweet little preschool? Amanda supposed that she could be overreacting, but her gut was telling her that something was amiss - and usually, her gut was right.

"Apartment 72B," she told Sonny once they were in the elevator of Declan's high-rise building.

He nodded in understanding, hands shoved in his pockets and eyes on the doors as they rode up to the seventh floor.

Amanda did her best police knock once they were outside of Declan's apartment, the sound as serious and aggressive as she felt. Then she waited, holding her breath in anticipation with Sonny near by.

It was painfully silent in the hallway.

She pressed an eager ear to the door, straining to listen, hoping to hear signs that he was inside.

There was only quiet.

Amanda stood up straight again and pulled her phone out of her pocket, quick fingers scrolling through her contact list. She was not going to consult Sonny about her next move - finding Jesse was more important than the rules and regulations he so tirelessly abided by.

"Who are you callin'?" Sonny asked her predictably.

She didn't look up. She found the phone number she wanted and hit 'dial' before pressing the device to her ear. "TARU."

"What?" Sonny sputtered.

"I'm tracing his phone," she snapped. With her gaze narrowed, she added frantically, "and don't tell me not to because I'm not interested in your Catholic-school-boy, by-the-book crap right now. I've got a really bad feelin' about this."

He glared at her wordlessly. She was vaguely aware that her comment was mean, downright callous, but she wasn't thinking clearly.

When the voice of a familiar technician answered her call, Amanda turned away from Sonny and began to pace the hall. "Hey, Cruz? It's Rollins."

"Hey, what's up?" Miguel Cruz replied.

"I need you to do me a favor."

"What kinda favor? I was just about to leave and go bowling."

"I need you to trace Lieutenant Murphy's phone."

"Are you serious?"

"I'm serious."

"You want me to put a trace on a lieutenant's phone? Rollins, I dunno..."

"I think he's got my kid and I don't know where he is."

"Oh. Yikes. Well, uh, gimme, like, a half hour or so, alright? I'll call you back."

"Yeah. Yeah, I'll be here. Thank you, Miguel."

"He's gonna do it?" Sonny looked more curious than annoyed.

She nodded. "Yeah. He's gonna call me back."

"Alright, well, don't panic," Sonny told her gently. He was trying to reassure her, but the tone of his voice didn't match the concern in his eyes. "I'm sure there's a good explanation for this."

Amanda swallowed hard. "What possible _good explanation_ is there for Murphy being totally unreachable for four hours after taking Jesse from school without telling anybody?"

Sonny didn't say anything; the knot in her gut twisted tighter.

* * *

"LaGuardia."

Cruz's voice echoed through the apartment on speaker phone as Amanda, Sonny and Audrey hovered anxiously around the kitchen counter.

"What?" they all replied in unison, leaning over the device.

"The phone's GPS says it was last used in LaGuardia airport," Cruz explained. "If he's on a plane now, we can't trace it."

"What the fuck is he doing at an airport? Where is he going?" Amanda exclaimed, her heart clenching in her chest.

"That I won't know until he's back on land," Cruz told her grimly. "But I'll keep my guy on it and he'll call you when he knows."

"I... yeah, thanks, Cruz," Amanda heard herself say.

"Let me call Ramsey at VICE, huh? See if he knows anything," Sonny suggested, mentioning a familiar detective who worked with Murphy. He added firmly, "then I'm callin' Benson and we're puttin' out an AMBER alert. It's been over five hours now, we can't wait any longer."

She started tugging at her lower lip with trembling fingers. She was afraid that if she opened her mouth, she would vomit, so she let Sonny make his first phone call in silence. Amanda watched his expressive face as he spoke, hoping to read some good news in the movement of his eyebrows or the lines on his forehead, but when he hung up he looked even more concerned than he had moments earlier.

"He said that all he knows is that Murphy's taken a 'leave of absence' to go 'home,'" Sonny told her.

"Home? I, what - the city is home!" Amanda stammered. "He's lived here his entire life."

He threw his hands up, just as frustrated and confused as she was. "That's just-"

"Oh, God," she interrupted when a realization hit her. Her hand gripped the kitchen counter top, knuckles white as she attempted to keep herself upright. "Oh, God..."

Sonny took a step closer to her. "What?"

Her heart started racing, the sound loud in her ears. She felt like her skin was suddenly searing hot.

Declan was from New York City, but much of his family was not.

"Amanda? What is it?" Audrey urged her, her hand resting gently on Amanda's elbow.

"Ireland," Amanda finally blurted shakily once she found her voice. "His family. That's where they're from!"

Sonny's eyes grew wide. "Whoa, whoa, whoa." He put his hands up, alarmed. "Ireland? You think _that's_ where he took her?"

"I don't know!" she cried despondently. "It's all I can think of, Sonny! I mean, he could be anywhere, but he has connections there, relatives..."

Without a word, Sonny picked up the phone again and called Liv.

* * *

When Liv arrived with Fin at their apartment, Amanda had practically paced a hole in the floor.

"Hear anything from TARU?" Liv asked anxiously as she shimmied off her coat.

Amanda stopped moving and shook her head. She was grateful that nobody had given her shit for putting a trace on Murphy's phone without permission - although even if they had, she wouldn't have cared. How could she care about anything but Jesse now?

"The Alert's out," Fin assured her. "I took care of it in the car."

"Thanks, Fin," Sonny murmured, Luca in his arms with a bottle.

"This is messed up," Fin remarked, shaking his head. "You really think he took her? Why would Murphy do that?"

"You underestimate how crazy he is," Amanda said quietly.

"I don't," Liv interjected dryly. "He's always been a loose canon."

"What am I supposed to do now?" Amanda asked her lieutenant weakly, truly desperate for direction.

Liv pulled in a breath and exhaled audibly. "Wait."

"Wait?!" she exclaimed incredulously, eyes wide. "I'm supposed to just sit here and... and wait?"

"Amanda, we don't know anything until TARU can triangulate his location," Liv explained levelly. "I've already put out a BOLO for the unit at La Guardia and I've asked some staff there to poke around, but it sounds like he's already taken off."

Liv's tone was so cool, so cavalier, that Amanda felt a flash of hot anger in response. What if Noah had disappeared? Would she simply sit around and _wait_? Would she be content to do nothing while the most precious thing she possessed was swallowed up by the universe?

"What are we gonna do instead, huh? Run around the city with no information?" Sonny asked Amanda, as if he had been reading her mind. "We'd only be wastin' time."

"I don't know, okay? I don't know! I just... I can't stay here and do nothing!" Amanda cried, tossing her hands up in the air helplessly. She was normally skilled at appearing unaffected in stressful situations, but this wasn't a case at work. This was her daughter, her life, so now there wasn't a stoic bone left in her body.

"You aren't doin' nothing, Amanda," Fin offered gently. "You know how this stuff works. With missin' kids, it's always a waiting game."

"This is _my_ missing kid, Fin!" she yelled, her fear exhibited as fiery anger. "This is Jesse!"

Her partner bowed his head quietly.

"From this point forward, you cannot get involved with this. Neither of you," Liv ordered sternly, looking between Sonny and Amanda. "This is an open investigation now and you have to be parents, not police officers."

Amanda bridled at the ridiculousness of Liv's statement. "Liv-"

"No," the lieutenant interrupted. "You do not want to get professionally tangled in this and-"

She shook her head. "I don't care about that! I care about my kid."

Liv reached out and rested a hand on each of Amanda's upper arms, gripping them in an attempt to ground the younger woman. "I know you do. But if Murphy did this, you can't give him any leverage to discredit you. It's a clear conflict of interest, you acting as a detective in your own child's case. You have to let other people help you. I know it's hard, but I need you to trust me on this, Amanda," Liv told her. "I know you understand how this works."

Amanda's chest rose and fell rapidly as she wordlessly held Liv's gaze. Somewhere in her fear-addled mind, she knew Liv was right, but she also knew that _hard_ wasn't a big enough word to describe any of this.

"We're gonna wait till we know more, Lieutenant," Sonny's voice assured their superior quietly, answering for the both of them. "We'll keep it by-the-book."

"Okay. Fin and I will stay here," Liv went on steadily, worried eyes still on Amanda like she was afraid she might explode beneath her fingertips. "At least until we know something and can plan our next move. If he really did fly to-"

She was interrupted by the sound of her phone ringing. Stepping back, she pulled the device from her pocket and quickly held it to her ear to answer it. "Benson."

Amanda watched Liv, holding her breath. She glanced over at Sonny, who was still holding Luca against his side, his expression now tense with the same apprehension that she felt.

When Liv lowered the phone from the side of her face after a short, vague conversation, she looked pained. "That was my guy at TSA," she began carefully. "Murphy and Jesse boarded a four forty-five plane to Dublin."


	21. Chapter 21

Fin looked stunned. "Does Jesse have a passport?"

"Yeah," Sonny answered, gently guiding Luca's curious, grabbing fingers away from his face. He added sarcastically, "we got both the kids passports months ago when we had the ridiculous thought that we could go on vacation one day."

Amanda remembered that. Jesse loved having her picture taken; she was so fidgety and impatient as they waited in line at the passport office. _We're getting this done so we can all go on an airplane one day,_ Amanda had explained to her daughter. She had never thought Jesse would be traveling anywhere without her, especially not like this.

In the haze of her shock, Amanda found her voice, but it sounded abnormal, strained. "He has... he has copies of all of Jesse's documentation from when we went to court. Including her amended birth certificate."

"Even the passport?" Liv asked sharply.

Sonny furrowed his brow and looked over at Amanda. "No," he answered tentatively. "Am I right, Amanda? He wouldn't have needed that for anything."

"No, no." Amanda quickly shook her head. "I never gave that to him. I never even told him we got her one."

Liv pressed a palm to her forehead, thinking. "He's traveled internationally for NYPD for years. He's got friends at the State Department, I'm sure," she guessed grimly. "He has friends everywhere. All he had to do was tell somebody his daughter's passport was lost and I bet they expedited a new one."

"Wow. What a crafty bastard," Fin breathed.

Amanda's blood began to boil; she could feel blotches of red blooming on her chest and face. Her fists curled at her sides, fingernails biting painfully into her palms. "I'm going over there," she declared. "I'm just gonna go over there and I'm gonna take her back!"

It was Sonny who answered before Liv, his tone stern. "No. No. Absolutely not."

"What the hell are you talking about?" she spat. She couldn't believe that he didn't have the very same impulse.

"You can't do that, Amanda," Sonny repeated.

She let out a crass laugh; she felt like she was going crazy. Did people honestly expect her to just _hang around_ while her child was held captive in a foreign country? "Yeah, I can!"

"You can't," Sonny asserted, an emphatic finger pointing in her direction. "The two of you share custody here the States, but he can file for full custody of Jesse in Ireland before you even get on a plane here in New York. If you go over there and just take her, they can arrest _you_ for kidnappin'."

"He's right, Amanda," Liv said quietly.

Amanda looked between the three of them, wild-eyed. They all seemed placid, unaffected, wearing the expressions they saved for gruesome crime scenes or telling a victim's family that their loved one was dead. She was skilled at that mask, too, but not when it came to her own daughter. Now she felt like she didn't have control over anything, least of all her emotions.

"She's four years old!" she shrieked frantically. Frannie barked in response, hovering at her feet. "The furthest she's ever been is Staten Island! She's probably totally confused and scared and-"

"How much help to her are you going to be if you're in jail?" Liv interrupted her. "We've got to alert the Embassy in Ireland before we do anything else. Then we contact the State Department."

"I want to go over there and shoot the son of a bitch!" Amanda blurted, ignoring her lieutenant.

"Easy, Rollins," Fin said carefully. "Listen to Liv."

"I'm going to get Missing Persons on this, then I'm going to get the State Department involved," Liv continued steadily. "But you have to give me some time."

* * *

Between the time difference and the complicated coordination between law enforcement officials, determining Jesse's whereabouts took hours. It was three in the morning in New York City when the State Department finally confirmed with the Irish Embassy that both Declan and Jesse had arrived in Dublin. Amanda's relief was short-lived; her daughter was alive, but still very far away. Before Liv and Fin left, an emergency meeting was arranged with the Office of Children's Issues within the State Department for nine o'clock that morning.

Amanda splashed cold water onto her face. She scrubbed away any lingering make-up, then blinked her reflection into focus in the bathroom mirror: her hair was tied up in a sloppy ponytail, bangs in disarray. She hadn't cried yet, but her eyes looked bloodshot and tired, surrounded by tiny, fine lines that she could have sworn weren't there that morning. Sonny had suggested that they try to get some sleep so they would be somewhat lucid for their meeting, but Amanda couldn't imagine ever feeling relaxed again.

She went through the motions anyway, even though every part of her felt heavy. It was all a challenge: changing her clothes, brushing her teeth, even checking on the baby in his crib. She thought that doing normal things would make her feel better, but most likely nothing would until Jesse was home. Every little task served as a reminder of all of the things she took for granted with Jesse on a day-to-day basis. Before she left the confines of the bathroom, Amanda screwed her eyes shut, trying to keep her composure. She thought of the mindfulness techniques Dr. Lindstrom used to help her with: he had patiently taught her how to harness small moments of meditation to keep her grounded in the present. What good was that skill, though, if her present was terrible and she absolutely did not want to be there?

Amanda eventually slipped into the bedroom. Sonny had changed into basketball shorts and his favorite Fordham t-shirt. Sitting atop the bed, his back was resting against the headboard as he peered down at a piece of paper in his hands.

Curious, Amanda walked over to him. "Sonny? What are you doing?" she asked as she sat on the edge of the bed by his side.

"I was just lookin' at this thing Jesse made me." He held up the paper - it was the list she had written for Jesse to give to him on his birthday - then began to fold it up again. "I put it in my wallet, y'know, since I didn't have anywhere to hang it."

She smiled wanly. "She was excited to give you that."

"I know." Sonny slid the list back into his wallet on the bedside table. "And she didn't even get how much it meant to me."

Amanda set a hand on Sonny's knee. "She will, one day."

He leaned his head back, chin tilted up as he studied the ceiling. "Y'know I used to have these thoughts... these thoughts about adopting Jesse. Like maybe one day Murphy'd give up his rights and disappear," he told her quietly. "I wanted to do it so that she doesn't grow up and wonder why everybody's got one last name and she's got another..." He looked back over at her sheepishly. "And I wanted to do it for me, I guess, because to me, she's my daughter and I love her."

She felt her throat tightening, but no tears came to her eyes. Maybe she was beyond them now, or maybe focusing on Sonny's sadness was the ideal distraction from her own. Amanda shifted closer to him, holding onto his hands in his lap as she leaned her forehead against his. "I know," she murmured softly. She felt his fingers tightening around hers. "I know you do."

* * *

"I have good news and I have bad news."

Sleep-deprived but energized by her anxiety, Amanda nearly jumped up from the table when the State official re-entered the room she and Sonny were sequestered in. Everything was bright white and institutional at the New York Department of State; there was nothing warm or comforting about the place. Foolishly Amanda had imagined that the employees there would be eager to help, to reassure, but instead everybody they encountered looked bored.

For an 'emergency' meeting, things had moved painfully slow that morning. She and Sonny had been shuffled from one office to another until finally being left alone in a small conference room with a table and few uncomfortable chairs. Liv had gone above and beyond by debriefing the staff there the night before, saving Amanda from having to relay the story again, but she had no idea what anybody was doing with that information. When the door finally creaked open, she felt her heart clench in her chest, both hopeful and terrified.

"What Declan did is a federal crime," Agent Bowers began, lowering himself into a seat across from the two of them. "Something called the Hague Convention on International Child Abduction is key here - Ireland is a treaty partner. That means that the authorities there are legally obligated to expedite Jesse's return to the United States."

"Okay. Well, good. Great," Amanda babbled excitedly.

"What's the bad news?" Sonny asked flatly.

Bowers slid a stack of paperwork across the table. "You have to submit an application."

She furrowed her brow, confused. "An application for what?"

"To see if this meets Hague Convention standards," Bowers explained. "Nothing can be put into motion without it."

"I have to _apply_ to get my own daughter back?" Amanda sputtered. She began to frantically flip through the papers in front of her. Then documents were filled with questions, attestations, check boxes, places for signatures...

"You do. You also have to provide all of the documentation listed on the last page," Bowers told her. "Declan will be notified as soon as it's all submitted, and he can voluntarily agree to bring her back to the States to avoid more repercussions. Or he could take this to court, which is a lengthy process. In that case, you would have to retain a foreign attorney-"

Her mouth hung open. "Are you saying that there's a possibility that she could be there for..."

"Awhile," Bowers finished her sentence. "He could also ask for mediation-"

"Oh, no. No. We're not playin' that game," Sonny interrupted firmly. "We're way past the mediation stage."

"You don't get to make that choice," Bowers said curtly, and Amanda knew what he was implying. Legally, Sonny had no ties to Jesse. He was a mere bystander.

Amanda glanced over at Sonny, who looked like he was barely suppressing the urge to say something he would regret. "I'm not making any kind of deal with him, not now, not after this," Amanda agreed with him. She swallowed hard as she fingered the papers in front of her. "If I fill this all out today and give it to you, when will we know it's approved?"

"Two days, maybe a little more given the time differences," Bowers replied. "My advice is that you don't attempt to contact Declan at all in that period. Everything you do from this point forward needs to come through us if you want this to go smoothly."

 _No, I would prefer this to be even more of a nightmare than it is already,_ Amanda thought sarcastically. "Okay," she said instead quietly. "Can I have a pen?"

Bowers passed her a pen. "I'll need copies of her birth certificate, her-"

"Here, here's all of it," Amanda told him anxiously, pulling a folder from her purse and handing it over. Liv had instructed her to come prepared. Without another word, she put her head down and began to write feverishly.

* * *

In the dim living room, Amanda carefully reached into Luca's crib. The baby had been asleep for two hours already that night. He stirred a little when his mother lifted him up, making a soft squeak of confusion without opening his eyes. She pressed his warm body against her chest and rested her cheek atop his head as she swayed in place slightly. Amanda felt comforted by her son's proximity, how solid he was, how present.

She didn't want to put him back. The living room wasn't far from where she slept, but that night it felt like Luca was miles away. Amanda was afraid that if she closed her eyes, he would disappear, too. It was illogical, irrational, but anxiety ran through her veins like poison, trying to convince her otherwise. She did not know if Jesse was safe and that reality squeezed her heart like a vice; at least she could be sure that her other child was.

Still carrying Luca, Amanda walked into the bedroom where Sonny was watching television. He appeared as exhausted as she felt.

"Can you do me a favor?" she asked him.

He looked up at her. "Hm?"

Amanda shifted in her spot. "Can you move the crib back in here?"

Sonny's brow creased. "Huh? Why?"

"Because I want it in here," she answered simply.

"We moved it out there so he could learn to sleep on his own," he reminded her.

"I know. But now I want it back in here."

"He's been out there for months."

"I'd feel better if it was in here."

He heaved a dramatic sigh. "Are you serious?"

Amanda's eyes narrowed, suddenly angry, as if Sonny should have been able to read her mind and understand that yes, she was ridiculous, but she was also terrified. "Do I look like I'm kidding?"

Sonny hauled himself off of the bed looking aggravated, as if she was asking some impossible task of him. She kept her mouth shut as he carried the crib back into their room, setting it down with a passive-aggressive flourish. She could practically feel the annoyance radiating off of him, which fueled hers, too.

"Thank you," she said sharply, insincerely, as she lowered the baby gently back into his crib.

She walked back out into the living room to begin to gather up some of Luca's things, which were strewn haphazardly all over the apartment. Cleaning hadn't been at the forefront of her mind lately.

"You're just gonna ask me to move it again," she heard Sonny say from the doorway of their bedroom.

Amanda froze in her spot. "So what, Sonny?" she snapped. "I'll move the damn thing again if I want to, okay? I'm so sorry I asked!"

"I'm just sayin'," he told her cavalierly.

"Well, stop," she shouted unnecessarily. "Stop talking. Don't say anything else to me."

"Here we go," Sonny mumbled sarcastically, eyes undoubtedly rolling.

She whirled around on her heel. "Oh my god, just stop!"

"Don't tell me what to do," he grumbled, turning away from her with a dismissive wave of his hand.

In that instant, Amanda thought of Nick Amaro. She remembered the night of the Paula Martin case, how she had poked and prodded and pushed him until he shattered his glass on the bar and loomed over her menacingly. His anger had been palpable; in that moment she saw how hard he was trying not to touch her. She had been drunk and provocative, but Nick had just been furious. Now she wondered: did it feel good when he broke things, to see the flash of fear in onlooker's eyes? Did that alleviate the rage coursing through his veins?

Amanda felt like throwing something at Sonny, even if this wasn't about Sonny at all. She wanted to grab the nearest object and hurl it in his direction with all of her force. She was so mad, it was eating her alive from the inside out. She felt sick with it, like if she didn't get it out her system it was going to consume her entirely. Breathing in and out audibly, she grappled with her last shred of reason: inflicting her rage upon Sonny - who was just as sleep-deprived and frazzled as she was - would not solve anything. It would not get Jesse back.

She didn't respond again. Amanda set down the little toys she had been gathering, releasing her tight grip on the plastic and fabric. She stalked into the kitchen and roughly opened the liquor cabinet. There was no way she was going to get any rest that night without chemical assistance, not with how worked up she was, so she grabbed the neck of the whiskey bottle. Next, she pulled a tumbler from another shelf, but she slammed it down on the counter too roughly and it shattered instantly in her hand.

"Ow, fuck!" she yelped, a shard of glass slicing across her palm. Bright red blood blossomed at the site of the wound and it stung like hell. Her eyes began to water, reflexively at first, but then she started crying. The cut hurt, but not as much as everything else did. In a hot rush she felt her anger, her fear, her sadness, her worry - all of it at once, crashing over her like the most terrible wave.

"What the hell did you do?" Sonny asked, sounding concerned as he moved quickly across the apartment.

She shakily turned on the sink and shoved her hand beneath the flow of water, wincing at the sensation. "I broke one of the tumblers your sister bought us for our wedding. Now we only have seven instead of eight," she sobbed, like that was the real problem. "This is so stupid. Now we have an uneven amount of glasses."

"Amanda..." She felt Sonny come up behind her.

With her uninjured hand, Amanda snatched at a paper towel and held it firmly against her palm. Blood shone through the white almost immediately.

"Hey, let me see. Are you gonna need stitches?" he asked her gently, a hand on her shoulder.

"No," she replied automatically, although truthfully she had no idea.

At her side, Sonny carefully took her hand and lifted the paper towel to reveal the cut underneath. He cringed a little. "That looks like it hurts." He pressed the towel back against the wound gently as he assured her, "it'll be okay. Just keep pressure on it."

She yanked her hand away from his, hot tears still running down her cheeks. "I'm not cryin' over the stupid cut, Sonny."

"Oh," Sonny responded flatly.

"Why couldn't you just do it?" she asked desperately, still gripping the paper towel to her palm. "Why couldn't you just move the damn crib without making it a _thing?_ "

"I just thought-"

"I get it, okay? You think it's dumb because it's been in the living room and it should stay in the living room. But is it really too much to want to know _one_ of my kids is okay? Really?"

Amanda watched his expression change when the realization hit him; now he understood that her request had been rooted in something much deeper. At first he was confused, then he appeared a combination of surprised and sad. "Amanda, I'm... I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking..."

"No, you weren't. Lucky you, because I think about it all the time," Amanda told him, voice trembling. "I think about how Jesse has been gone for... for sixty-eight hours and ten minutes. Every single second of that, I've been terrified. And I can't do a thing about it. I filled out a bunch of stupid paperwork and put the life of my kid in a bunch of strangers' hands just so I can sit around and _wait_. I don't know anything. I don't know if she's hungry or tired or scared or..." Her words got caught her throat and she swallowed over them, dislodging a fresh batch of tears. "So if I want my son sleeping next to me because I like to know that he's _here_ , just let me do it, okay? Just let me fucking do it." She roughly crumpled up the paper towel she had been holding and tossed it into the trash. Vision blurred, she walked briskly to the bathroom, leaving Sonny alone in the kitchen.

She rinsed her hand off again, the remaining blood tinging the water red as it swirled down the drain. Gingerly, she opened the medicine cabinet to look for a band-aid - which most likely wasn't enough for her wound, but she didn't care. She found a scrap of gauze, then a box of Hello Kitty bandages that she had purchased for Jesse. She secured both over her cut.

"Amanda." The low tone of Sonny's voice came from the doorway.

"What," she sniffled without looking up, smoothing the corners of her band-aid against her skin. It was a statement, not a question.

"Can you talk to me, please? I'm really sorry," Sonny asked quietly.

Of course he was sorry. Sonny never did anything hurtful intentionally - it was Amanda who had an unfortunate history of being malicious. Through wet eyelashes, she peered up at him. He looked so tired, so despondent. Amanda knew that all of the pain she was experiencing was coursing through him, too. Like a child, she felt her lower lip begin to tremble. She took a step forward to close the space between them and bowed her head until it made contact with Sonny's shoulder. She took a deep, shuddering breath before she began to cry freely. His arms went around her, wrapping up her smaller frame tightly as she heaved sobs into his t-shirt, her tears dampening the soft fabric. Amanda's own arms curled against his chest in between them so he was holding her; she didn't think she possessed the energy to hold him back.

* * *

 **AN** : Yes, I know: the wheels have really come off the bus with this story. Blame it on stress. ;-) Hehe.


	22. Chapter 22

"Y'sure you don't want anything else?"

Knees to her chest as she sat at the kitchen table, Amanda shook her head. Sonny had made lasagna for dinner, which Amanda usually ate a minimum two pieces of, but not that night. She moved sheets of pasta around with her fork until her plate was a mess, all of the perfectly-assembled layers now unsightly. She had even tossed Frannie a few pieces of ground beef, because at least the dog would appreciate it. Sonny watched her feign interest in the meal for a little while before he did her a favor and took the dish away from her. He knew it wasn't personal - she hadn't eaten much over the past few days.

"You've gotta eat something, Amanda," Sonny insisted gently as he loaded plates and silverware into the dishwasher.

"I'm just not hungry." She knew that was a foreign concept to a Carisi, but it was the truth. Arms around her knees, she rested her chin atop them as she watched him in the kitchen. "Are you going to go to work tomorrow?"

"I guess so. I mean, I dunno," he answered her vaguely, glancing over his shoulder at her. "I'll do whatever you want me to do."

Without having to ask, Liv had given her the week off. Amanda was relieved, as she was definitely not in the space to be an effective member of her squad. Liv had offered Sonny the same thing, but he was clearly still unsure. He wanted a distraction, to feel useful. Amanda wanted that, too, but she couldn't seem to muster up the energy. Selfishly, she wanted Sonny to stay home with her. It's not like they were _doing_ anything, but she felt better with him around. "Maybe give it one more day...?" She was holding out hope that she would get a reply from the State Department; every time her phone buzzed, she practically jumped out of her skin, thinking the time had finally come.

"Okay," Sonny agreed with a nod, closing the dishwasher.

She watched him move around the kitchen, putting things away, rolling up his sleeves to scrub pots and pans. It was a sight she had seen a million times, but for some reason, that night it sent her heart to her throat. He took care of her in such quietly significant ways. He made her dinner. He changed the light bulbs she used to have to climb on the kitchen table to reach. On the days he woke up before her in the morning, she found her filled coffee cup waiting on the counter - swirling with just a splash of cream and exactly one sugar. Sonny never looked for praise or a 'thank you,' he just _did it._ Whenever Amanda needed him in a bigger way, he did that, too.

"Thanks for dinner, baby," Amanda said softly, cheek still resting on her knees.

Sonny dried off his hands on a dish towel and walked over to her. He ran fingertips over her head. "You're welcome," he replied. "How 'bout we watch some t.v., huh? You pick the channel."

She smiled up at him. "Any channel?"

He walked over to the adjoining living room and dropped onto the couch, his long frame stretching out so his feet rested on the coffee table. "Any channel."

"'K." She uncurled herself from her position and sat next Sonny. She tucked her body into his side, knees bent over his lap, her cheek against his chest. She took the remote in her hand and began skillfully switching the channels. "Lucky for you, _The Bachelorette_ just started."

"Great," he mumbled.

Amanda watched the show for a little while, allowing herself to get lost in the superficial content. With his arm around her, Sonny's fingers played at the small of her back absently, the motions warm and soothing, while he used his other hand to fiddle with his phone. If she hadn't been so perpetually anxious, she would have fallen asleep to the rhythm of his steady heartbeat.

"I don't know what I'd do without you," she heard herself whisper. The words came out of no where, escaping her mouth quietly, but even if she hadn't thought about them, she had felt them.

"Hm?" Sonny was not paying attention. She could see his eyes flickering over an article about the Rangers line-up that he had pulled up on his phone - she assumed to distract him from her bad taste in television.

She sat up, lifting her head to eye him. She studied his profile in silence for a moment. Was there more gray at his temples than usual? Maybe it was just the light. There was stubble standing out along his jaw; he hadn't shaved in two days. Resting one elbow against his shoulder, she took her other hand and cupped the side of his face, gently guiding him to look at her. "I said, I don't know what I'd do without you."

Sonny set his phone down on his lap, his hand reaching up to gently hold her wrist. He gave her a small, crooked smile. "C'mon. You'd be okay."

"'Okay,' maybe, but..." Amanda shook her head, dropping her palm from his cheek to rest it against his chest. "I can't imagine doing... this alone." She couldn't get herself to mention Jesse's situation plainly; it was easier to talk _around_ it. Suddenly she felt like she was going to start crying again - lately stress had made it her default response to everything, it seemed - but this time Sonny was a contributing factor.

"Hey, 'for better or for worse,' remember?" he reminded her, holding up his left hand and wiggling his ring finger as evidence of the vow.

"I know, I know. But even before that, you've always been there for me," she croaked sadly, as if it was a bad thing. "Even when I was mean to you."

Sonny chuckled. "'Was?'" he repeatedly skeptically, wearing a playful smirk.

"Well, okay, meaner than I am now," she corrected herself, grinning a little despite the lump of emotion in her throat. "I just... all of this is making me think about what I take for granted. I never tell you. I never tell you how much I appreciate all the stuff you do. There's all of these things that I don't think twice about day-to-day but if it stopped, or if you were gone..."

"'Manda, you show me that you appreciate stuff all the time," Sonny insisted hurriedly, most likely hearing the tremble in her voice and hoping to stop another onslaught of tears. She couldn't blame him for that. "And you do things for me, too. Lots of things. That's how this is supposed to work, isn't it?"

Amanda nodded. "I know," she sniffed. All of her feelings had tangled into one, giant mess - her worry, her gratitude, her immense love for a family that years ago she had never even known she wanted. She roughly rubbed her eyes, trying to collect herself. Exhaling, she looked at him. "You know like, when you're dating someone and they break your heart? That's what this feels like," she explained. Elbow still against Sonny's shoulder, she rested her head in that palm. "I remember bein' a teenager and my mama saying, 'nobody ever died of a broken heart, Amanda.' That was her way of consoling me. But this... this feels like my heart is broken and it _is_ gonna kill me."

Sonny shook his head. "It's gonna be okay." His voice was sure, confident.

"How do you know that?" she asked him weakly, genuinely perplexed by his certainty.

He shifted in his spot, turning a little more inward to face her better. His hand rested atop her knee that was bent against his lap. "Remember when Jesse was a baby and you let Kim watch her and she got really sick? Y'know, way back when you were mean to me? She had to go the hospital and all that."

A small smile tugged at her mouth at his descriptor. "Yeah."

"Well, do you also remember while we were waitin' for her, how I told you that God never gives us more than we can handle?"

"Yeah. You say that all the time."

"I know. I do. But _this_ situation with Jesse has got me thinkin'," he explained. "I think God _does_ give us more than we can handle."

She raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Careful, Carisi, you may get _smote,_ " she mumbled sarcastically.

He gave her a pointed look. "I just - hear me out. I mean, this situation is shitty. It's the worst thing I've ever had to deal with, and I know it's the worst thing you've ever had to deal with. Neither of us know what the hell we're doin', how to navigate any part of this. I don't feel like I'm handlin' anything, honestly. Do you?"

"No..." Amanda furrowed her brow. "Is this supposed to make me feel better? 'Cause it's not working."

Sonny ignored her, continuing in earnest, "here's what I think now: I think God gives us all of the grace we need in any situation we face."

"What-"

"Grace is defined as the 'free and unmerited favor of God,'" he continued, anticipating her question. "So if you've got that on your side, you can manage even the shittiest situations. It's not fair to say He never gives us more than we can handle, because human beings endure all sorts of terrible things all of the time, am I right? It's really about the belief that _through_ God, everything is possible - even gettin' over the worst shit of your life. That's how I know this is gonna be okay. I know you don't believe in this stuff, but I do - enough for the both of us."

Amanda blinked at him, momentarily awestruck. She didn't know why she was surprised - he had never wavered in his convictions. Even so, she was amazed that in the face of something so unsettling, he remained steadfast in his beliefs. In truth, she found herself envious of him. Her fingertips toyed thoughtfully with her bangs as she asked him the question she had posed a hundred times before: "I just... how can you put so much stock in something you've never even seen?"

"That's what faith _is_ , Amanda," Sonny reminded her gently. "It's believin' in something you _feel_ rather than see. You don't need proof to feel."

* * *

Sonny went back to work. Without him, Amanda tried to exist normally: she took the baby and dog for a run, went to the grocery store and did some laundry. By the time afternoon came, she felt immensely guilty, as if she shouldn't have been doing anything at all without Jesse home. It didn't make any sense - it wasn't as if the basic activities of daily living would have any impact on whether or not the government could bring Jesse back - but it still made her sick to her stomach. She hated the idea that the universe was still turning around her, asking things of her, while an integral part of her world was missing. No matter how hard she tried to concentrate, everything felt disjointed, difficult, hollow. So she retreated to the messy living room and sat on the couch, gnawing at her thumb nail, and pretended to watch television.

When the buzzer rang out through the apartment, she was tempted to ignore it. Driven by an unrealistic hope that there would be good news on the other side of the front door, she eventually pressed her eye to the peep hole to peer curiously out into the hallway. She was surprised to see Leah Ricci standing there, waiting. Now that she worked at homicide, they didn't see each other as often as they used to, although they remained friends. Amanda grimly hoped that nobody she knew was dead.

She pulled open the door. "Leah. I, hi..." she greeted her, her surprise evident in her tone.

"Hi," Leah said cheerfully. "I was just in the neighborhood-"

She raised her eyebrows. "You live two blocks away."

"Well, yeah, that too. But, I brought some ice cream." Leah lifted up a small paper bag that she was carrying. "I remember you like Cherry Garcia. I had a shitty day and thought maybe you could use some Ben and Jerry's, too."

Amanda's eyes widened at the unexpected, kind gesture. "It's my favorite," she remarked. She opened the door up further, warning the brunette detective dryly, "um, come in. Sorry the place is... well, it speaks for itself, really."

"No, no, it's fine," Leah insisted brightly, walking inside and looking around. "It's, um... lived-in. Where's the baby?"

"That's a nice way to put it," Amanda mumbled. She pulled two bowls from a kitchen cabinet and then retrieved some spoons. Thankfully, it was all clean. "He's asleep in the other room."

Leah pulled the pint of ice cream from the paper bag and began to carefully tear away the plastic that sealed it closed. "I heard about Jesse," she told her quietly.

Amanda wordlessly set down the dishes on the counter.

"I just... you know, they sent a couple of people from Homicide to help SVU out for the past few days," Leah explained.

She nodded, sliding the ice cream scooper over to Leah. "I'll be back once..." She didn't bother to finish her sentence.

"Have you heard anything?" Her brown eyes were big, like she was genuinely concerned.

"No."

"How are you...?"

She crossed her arms over her chest, watching Leah begin to distribute the ice cream into the two bowls. "I'm... awful, honestly." There was no point in pretending.

"I couldn't believe it, when I heard," she practically whispered, frowning. "Murphy is so respected..."

"People are afraid of him," Amanda corrected her sternly. "That's different than respect. He's an unpredictable egomaniac."

Leah nodded and returned the top to the pint. "Is there anything I can do?"

"If I go over there and murder him, y'think you could help me cover it up?" she joked sarcastically, poking her spoon at her portion of ice cream.

She grinned.

Amanda shook her head dismissively as she assured Leah, "this is helpful. Really. I appreciate you comin' by." Given how terribly their relationship had begun, it meant a lot to Amanda to know that Leah cared enough to check in on her (even if she typically _hated_ being checked in on). She licked a little glob of sticky-sweet ice cream off of her spoon. "Have you been on any good dates lately?"

"Good ones? No," Leah grumbled. "Bad ones, yeah."

She raised her eyebrows, intrigued and eager for a distraction. "Tell me everything."


	23. Chapter 23

The next night, she finally fell asleep.

Earlier in the day, the State department had called to confirm that her Hague Convention application had been approved. Now, they would move forward with notifying Declan. The news still left Amanda in a place of near-constant unease: she remained so far from Jesse, so afraid of Murphy's response, that not even this bit of progress could do much to soothe her. But she was tired. Over the past four days, she had only slept a handful of hours. Between years of police work and her history of all-night gambling, she considered herself fairly skilled at staying alert, but the emotional toll Jesse's abduction was taking on her proved to be too much. She didn't know when her eyes drifted shut that evening, her body betraying her anxious brain, but Amanda eventually succumbed to her exhaustion.

She woke up suddenly to the sound of her phone ringing. Eyes flying open, Amanda looked around: she had fallen asleep on top of the bed, sheets and comforter still neat beneath her. Sonny wasn't beside her; she could see light shining beneath the door, indicating that he was probably in the living room. Grabbing her phone, she blinked the screen into focus to see that Declan Murphy was calling her.

The blood in her veins turned to ice. Yanking the phone off of her charger, she flung herself off of the bed and sprinted into the living room. Sonny was on the couch with his laptop, paperwork spread out on the coffee table, his brow creased in concentration. When Amanda appeared before him, he looked up, confused.

"Declan is calling me!" she exclaimed breathlessly, holding up the ringing device as evidence.

It took Sonny a second to register her words, but when he did, he quickly tossed his laptop onto the couch, expression something between surprised and horrified. "Are you kiddin' me? Pick it up!"

Amanda shook her head feverishly. "They told me not to talk to him-"

"Screw them," he blurted. "They're just a buncha suits anyway. Pick it up!"

Amanda was surprised that Sonny didn't want to adhere to the State agent's instructions to only communicate with Declan via a third party. She didn't have time for an exploratory conversation about it, though. Her thumb shakily pressed the 'answer' button before quickly putting the phone on speaker.

"Declan?" she said tentatively.

She was met with muffled rustling on the other line.

"Declan, are you there?" Amanda asked anxiously.

"'Manda, did I wake you up?" Declan's voice finally came over the speaker, gruff and tired-sounding.

"I, no, I'm fine. I'm here," she nearly yelled. "Declan, what is going on? Where's Jesse?"

"Jesse? She's asleep," he answered easily.

Sonny stood up from the couch, arms crossed over his chest, eyes narrow and suspicious.

"What... what is going on?" she repeated, beginning to pace. "I've been worried sick."

"I thought you'd say that." It was then that Amanda noticed that there was something different about his tone - there was a lilt in his speech that wasn't normal.

"Are you... are you drunk?" Amanda whispered in astonishment. She watched Sonny shake his head in exasperation, his fingers flexing around his biceps.

"Let me ask you something," Declan continued, ignoring her observation.

"Okay..."

"Four years ago... did you sleep with me because you felt like you owed me?"

She stopped pacing and her eyes met Sonny's. Now she was certain: Declan was definitely intoxicated. " _What?_ "

"I just want to know," Declan explained, speech thick. "'Cause that's what you do, right, Rollins? You get yourself into trouble then you bat your eyelashes with your southern charm and-"

"What does this have to do with Jesse?" she interrupted him nervously.

" _I asked you a question._ "

"It's just... what? No. No, I didn't do that," Amanda insisted, frazzled. She swallowed hard, her free hand raking through her hair as she added desperately, "can I please just see Jesse? I just want to see that she's safe."

"She's safe. I can't believe you don't trust me, after everything I've done for you," Declan replied with a crass chuckle. "Does Carisi know? Does he know I saved your entire career? That I put my ass on the line for you? You stole a gun from evidence. You were an accessory to rape and robbery, remember? You held a loaded firearm to a pregnant woman's stomach. Without me, you'd be in Rikers. Instead, you're a Sergeant."

Heat rose to her cheeks and her gaze fell to the floor. She didn't know if she was more embarrassed or frightened, but either way, she couldn't look at Sonny. She had told him, vaguely, about what had had happened with Declan before they had gotten married. She had spared him the majority of the details of her wrongdoings back then, but now they hung heavily in the living room between them. With Jesse in Declan's care, Amanda couldn't fire back the way she wanted to - she would risk bruising his massive ego. She had to swallow her shame and anger. She had to submit. "I know," she managed quietly.

"Your entire life since then, you owe me for it," he told her sternly, loudly.

She flinched. "If you're trying to teach me a lesson, Declan, I get it, okay? I get it," Amanda croaked. "I haven't slept in four days. I haven't been to work. Jesse is everything to me. I just want her home."

"I used to think that one day, after I came out from under, that I'd have a family," Declan lamented, his words jumbling together due to intoxication. "Except now you have one, and I don't. How's that work? If you'd stuck with me, we could have made a great team."

With her free hand, she pinched the bridge of her nose with her fingers, her eyes squeezing shut. "When you bring Jesse back, we'll talk, okay? Really," she promised him softly, sweetly, even if it made bile rise up in her throat. She could feel Sonny's gaze on her. "Just you and me. No Jesse, no lawyers. Just us."

"Don't play me, Rollins."

"I'm not, I promise. I've always been honest with you, haven't I? You know everything about me. You've always been so understanding." She started pacing again, tucking her hair behind her ear, thinking. It pained her, but she whispered, "that's what I like about you, Declan."

"I don't want Carisi involved." He still sounded angry, but Amanda could have sworn his tone was just a little bit softer than before.

"No, Declan, just you and me." Gaze still lowered to the floor, Amanda added coquettishly, "I... you're right, y'know: I owe you a lot. I owe you everything, really." She didn't know if Declan was drunk enough to buy into the sugary way she was pandering to his pride, but she felt like she had no choice but to risk it.

She heard him breathing wordlessly on the other end of the line.

"Just bring Jesse home, okay?" she asked as gently as possible, even if she felt like screaming. "Then we can talk."

After a beat of tense silence, he hung up on her.

"Son of a bitch!" she breathed, frustrated - and somehow more anxious than she had been before he had called. She carelessly tossed her phone onto the couch, then looked up at Sonny, who had been uncharacteristically silent. He was watching her - no, he was glaring.

"What?" she demanded distractedly, fingers dragging through her hair as she contemplated her next move.

He continued to stare at her wearing his all-too-familiar 'are you kidding me?' expression, the one he saved for truly ridiculous situations.

"What, Sonny?" Amanda urged him.

He raised his eyebrows as he asked, "you done suckin' Murphy's d-"

"Oh, stop it!" Amanda laughed crassly, her eyes widening in amusement. "You know he's an egotistical bastard. I was doin' what I thought would keep his interest."

"Oh, he's interested alright," he replied sarcastically.

"It was all bullshit, you know that," she assured him with a dismissive wave of her hand.

He rolled his eyes. "You're not goin' to meet him."

Sonny's voice was the firmest she had ever heard it; Amanda then realized that he wasn't joking around. "I will. If he's got some... some delusion that he and I can be together, I'll take that as far as I have to if it means getting Jesse back."

"You won't. The second he steps foot back in America, he's gettin' arrested. End of story," Sonny said, now visibly agitated. "And then you're done with him."

"Since when do you get to tell me what to do?" she scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest.

"I'm tired of him. I barely tolerated him until he went totally insane, and now I'm definitely done," he explained boldly.

"I'm not asking you to do anything. _I'm_ doing it."

"I want him out of _our_ lives. Period."

"He will be, once this is over!"

"I shouldn't have told you to pick up. You shoulda listened to what Bowers told you. 'Cause now you're involved... again."

"So what, Sonny? Who cares if it gets Jesse back?"

"I care, Amanda!" he exclaimed, jabbing his finger toward his chest emphatically. "I'm the one who's had to sit back and watch all this bullshit with him play out for years. With an audience, too: everybody in all of goddamn NYPD knows about the two of you. How do you think that makes me feel, huh? It was bad enough with Amaro, but at least he's across the country now and-"

A hot flash of humiliation coursed through her, distracting her. "People talk about me?" she interrupted him, her voice sounding timid and childish.

"Well, I mean..." Sonny began uneasily. She could see him internally debating whether or not to be honest; Amanda knew which option always won. "Yeah. They have before."

"What do they say?" she asked quietly, even though she didn't really want to know. She wasn't naive - she had always assumed her colleagues gossiped about her, but it was still hard to hear it stated as fact by her own husband.

Now he looked uncomfortable. "That isn't the point."

"C'mon, tell me. What do they say?" Amanda urged him masochistically, as if this was giving her some kind of sick satisfaction. "Do they call me a slut? Do they think I'm less of a police officer 'cause I slept with men who happened to be my co-workers? Because I had kids with two of them?"

Sonny's hand reached up to rub the back of his neck roughly as he avoided her gaze.

Her arms tightened over chest. "Is that what you think, too? And that maybe if I hadn't been so easy, I wouldn't be in this mess in the first place?"

He looked up quickly, blue-gray eyes meeting hers again. "No, Amanda, of course I don't think that," he insisted, voice strained. "It's just, throughout all of this, I have to be reminded-"

"Oh, _you_ have had to be reminded, Sonny? You don't think _I_ think about this shit every goddamn day?" she exclaimed, exasperated. There was no venom in her voice; she wasn't mad at him. "Every time Jesse calls you 'daddy,' don't you think I think about how differently I wish this could have gone?"

His expression turned solemn.

Amanda took a step closer to him. "Look, I know. I know that... that everything I came with, it's a lot. It's not easy," she whispered. "I've asked a lot of you since... since even before Jesse was born and now, I just... I just keep askin'." She pulled in a deep breath before continuing weakly, "I told you the other day, I don't know what I'd do without you, and I meant that. I need you. I need you for this, for everything."

She watched him in earnest. It had taken thirty-six years and the loss of her daughter for Amanda to admit such a thing to another person - to her own husband, no less. She didn't just want him, she _required_ him. Amid the storm of her self-inflicted chaos, he was her anchor.

He dropped his hands to his sides. "You know I'm not goin' anywhere, it's just..."

"I know. You're just tired," she finished his sentence for him quietly, because she could see it all written across his features.

"I just want us to have a nice life, 'Manda," Sonny explained feebly. "That's it: just you, me, the kids. Instead, everything feels so damn hard."

Sonny didn't complain often. If he did, it was about petty things, like having to fold laundry, or his computer not working, or his mother's incessant nagging. It pained Amanda to realize that beneath the steadiness he so tirelessly provided, he was growing weary. All she could do was nod slowly; she couldn't fault him for his honesty. "I love you, Sonny," she told him softly, because it was true and she didn't know what else to say.

He offered a small, wan smile. "I love you, too."

For the first time in awhile, Amanda found herself wondering if that would be enough.


	24. Chapter 24

The kitchen was a disaster and so was Amanda.

She was covered in flour and sugar, her hands sticky with vanilla extract and butter. She had foolishly thought baking would be easier than cooking, but after two hours attempting to concoct a cake, Amanda was sweating and discombobulated. She had needed a distraction: she had informed Agent Bowers about her conversation with Declan. In the end, it didn't mean much. They could confirm Jesse was safe, but it was still up to Declan to choose how he would respond to her Hague Convention request. Again, she was left to wait.

This was not just any confection she had set her mind to conquering that day: Italian cream cake was Sonny's all-time favorite dessert. It consisted of fluffy yellow cake flavored with vanilla and coconut, topped with a buttercream frosting and crushed pecans. Of course, Sonny's mother had made it from scratch for special occasions throughout the lives of her children - and that was what Amanda was now competing with. Buying the fifteen ingredients was easy, but assembling them all together to make anything worth eating was a whole separate challenge.

Her first attempt, she unknowingly used baking power instead of baking soda. When she excitedly pulled the three layers from the oven to assess her work, the cakes looked dry and flat. After re-reading the directions three more times, Amanda finally recognized her error. She left the pans atop of the stove, annoyed, and hurriedly started again. She was far too high-strung to give up completely, and this was about more than simply learning to do something new: she couldn't stop thinking about the look on Sonny's face when he had talked about the life he had imagined with her - and what he had ended up with instead. Amanda was used to him being unflinchingly reliable and resilient, but now she saw how unfair that expectation really was.

A cake was not going to make up for all of the times Amanda took Sonny's steadiness for granted. In fact, she felt sick to her stomach when she really thought about how selflessly he had repeatedly stuck by her side - even when Amanda was clearly undeserving. If Jesse's abduction had taught her anything, it was that she was foolish not to express gratitude for the people who made her life worth living. She didn't know enough words to adequately describe this realization, so Amanda opted to try to show Sonny instead.

She slid her second attempt at the cake into the oven. Using an exaggerated exhale to blow her bangs away from her eyes, Amanda looked down at the recipe again. "'Beat cream cheese, butter, sugar and vanilla on high until fluffy.' Okay, yeah, fine. I can do that." She talked to herself confidently, dumping the ingredients to make the frosting into the stand mixer she had never touched before that day. Somebody with a sense of humor must have bought it as a wedding gift.

She started wresting with the plastic mixing attachment, trying to get it to 'click' into place. "What the... motherfucker, this thing is ridiculous," she grumbled, twisting and turning with all of her strength for a minute or two until the pieces suddenly joined together. "Oh! Ha, yay," Amanda chirped in surprise, clasping her messy hands together with satisfaction.

She eyed the speed dial on the side of the mixer, nose scrunched in thought. There were a lot of options, which she found kind of stupid - mixing was mixing, wasn't it? With a flourish, she cranked the knob all the way up, figuring that would get the job done more efficiently. Immediately the plastic blades began to spin furiously, sending the contents of the metal bowl flying in multiple directions. "Shit!" she yelped, frantically fumbling with the dial to turn off the beaters as bits of frosting clung to her hair and clothes. She heard Luca laugh from his spot in his play pen in the living room.

"Okay, okay. Bad idea," Amanda announced breathlessly to her baby and dog, who had been witnessing her foray into baking for hours now.

Cautiously, she started over, keeping the speed of the mixer much more reasonable until she had a bowl filled with fluffy, white frosting. With a swipe of her finger, she tasted it, genuinely surprised to find that it was pretty damn good. She carefully set it aside until the oven beeped, indicating that the cakes were done. This time, when Amanda pulled out the three pans, they looked even and golden. Running out of counter space given all of her mishaps, she simply shoved more bowls and utensils into the nearly-full sink to make room.

She didn't expect frosting a cake to be so satisfying. Ever the perfectionist, Amanda took great care in assembling all of the round layers, swiping the white buttercream around until every inch was covered. She had no idea how much time she lost to being so precise, but eventually she sprinkled coconut and pecans on top of the cake to finish it off. When it was completed, her confection rested proudly atop her finest plate. Amanda tried not to think about how excited Jesse would have been to see it sitting there when she came home from school.

Momentarily oblivious to the disaster that lingered around her, Amanda admired her work. She hadn't baked with much grace, but at least the cake looked good. She was only distracted from complimenting herself when Sonny came through the front door. He stopped almost immediately in the threshold: he looked at her, the kitchen, then over his shoulder into the hallway - as if he was afraid he had entered the wrong apartment by mistake.

"What's... goin' on...?" he asked cautiously, looking mildly concerned as he shut the door behind him.

"I made you a cake," Amanda explained with a smile, as if it was something she did every week.

Sonny raised his eyebrows, appearing dumbfounded. "Huh?"

" _I made you a cake_ ," she repeated, then held her arms out in her best Vanna White impression.

"You... you _baked_ something?" Sonny sputtered. "Here? In the kitchen?"

"Yes, I did," she said proudly, planting her hands on her hips. "And it's your favorite kind, too."

He stepped further into the apartment, then the kitchen, his mouth agape as he looked around. It was then she remembered the mess she had left in her wake.

"Oh, yeah, all this..." Amanda waved her hand dismissively, gesturing to the disarray. "It's just, y'know. Part of the creative process."

"Who _are_ you?" he laughed in disbelief, eyes wide.

"What? I can bake," she responded coolly, like if she said it with enough certainty it would actually become true.

He crossed his arms loosely over his chest, looking both skeptical and amused. He eyed her for a moment, then gestured toward her vaguely. "You got a little..."

Amanda scrunched her nose, confused. "Huh?"

"Frosting... on your cheek," Sonny clarified, clearly trying not to laugh.

Both of her hands immediately went to the sides of her face, embarrassed.

He shook his head, grinning. Reaching out a hand, he swiped a thumb across her cheekbone and pulled it away to reveal a white smudge of frosting. He licked it off and determined, "tastes good."

"Really? Does it? I bet it'll taste even better on the cake," Amanda said eagerly, beginning to turn around to retrieve it.

Sonny grabbed her arm gently, stopping her. "Hey. I can't believe you did all this," he told her, gaze nothing short of adoring. She was fairly confident that the last time he looked at her so intently was the day they got married.

Amanda wiped her palms on her jeans before she gently held onto the lapels of Sonny's suit jacket. Fingers fussed unnecessarily with the navy fabric there as she smiled almost bashfully. "You're welcome."

He soothed his hands up and down her sides slowly. "How long did this take you?"

"Oh, y'know, just... five-ish hours. Give or take. There are some, uh, practice cakes on the stove," she admitted sheepishly. He would have noticed the extra pans eventually.

He raised his eyebrows. "Wow."

She rested the flat of her palms against his chest and peered up at him. "I just thought, with everything going on... some cake would be helpful. And I know it's your favorite and, um, it's probably not gonna taste like your mom's because she's like, some kind of other-worldly culinary genius, but I used the same recipe and..." She was rambling, so she shook her head to clear it. She whispered in conclusion, "I just wanted to do something for you."

"Thank you, Amanda. This is so sweet," Sonny said quietly.

Amanda shrugged. "It's the least I could do. Seriously."

He frowned. "Hey, the other night... I didn't mean to make you feel like-"

"No, no. You were being honest and I needed to hear it and... things are gonna be different," she blurted quickly. "I mean, this cake thing really took a lot outta me so don't get your hopes up or anything," she added playfully. "But... I just, I want you to know how grateful I am for you."

Sonny looked down at her for moment, expression soft, the corners of his eyes crinkling with his smile. He kissed her. "So... can we eat it now?"

She grinned against his mouth, then gave him one more peck on the lips before pulling away. "Cake for dinner? Sure, why the hell not? We're adults, we can do whatever we want." She started rummaging around for an appropriate knife. "I apologize in advance if tastes like crap."

"I'm sure it's gonna taste great." Sonny took off his jacket and strode through the apartment to reach into Luca's play pen. "Hey, big guy," he greeted the baby, pulling him into his arms before walking back to the kitchen. He asked Amanda, "you hear anything from...?"

Amanda shook her head, knowing what he meant, focusing her eyes on the cake she was carefully cutting. "Nothing."

Carrying Luca, he hovered by the counter. "Well, it's alright, at least-"

"Let's not talk about it right now, yeah?" she interrupted him gently, looking up to meet his gaze. For the past week, Jesse was their only topic of conversation - it consisted mostly of Amanda worrying and Sonny repeatedly attempting to reassure her. As much as she craved his optimism, Amanda wanted to give him a break. Over her lifetime she had carried a lot of heavy burdens on her own; for Sonny's sake, she could keep this anxiety to herself for a little while.

* * *

"C'mon, you can do it!"

Amanda sat cross-legged on the living room floor, arms stretched out and fingers wiggling in encouragement of her son. Sonny stood hunched over behind a wobbly Luca, each of the nine-month-old's hands clinging to one of Sonny's fingers. Luca had learned to stand quickly and had recently begun clumsily moving around with the help of whatever furniture was at his level. Sonny was convinced he was secretly able to walk on his own, he just hadn't had the opportunity, so that evening he set him confidently on the wood floor to prove his theory.

With his big, blue eyes, Luca looked around. He seemed happy to simply hold on to his father's fingers, as if that was enough of an adventure.

Amanda sighed. "He's not gonna do it, Sonny. He doesn't know what's going on, he's not ready."

"Just give him a minute, 'Manda," Sonny insisted. "He only learned he had legs like, a month ago."

"Okay, okay." With renewed zeal, she wriggled her outstretched fingers again and called sweetly, "come on, Lu. Come to mama."

The baby smiled at the bright, enthusiastic tone of his mother's voice. "Mama," he cooed. Swaying in place, he put one chubby bare foot in front of the other.

"Atta boy, there you go," Sonny encouraged him, moving slowly forward with him as Luca took a series of shaky steps. After a minute, Sonny announced, "I'm lettin' go."

"If he smashes his face on the floor, I'll never forgive you," Amanda threatened him dramatically, shifting an inch closer to make the gap between them smaller. "He only has four teeth, he can't afford to lose any."

He rolled his eyes. " _Relax_ , babe. He's not scaling Mount Everest."

Carefully, Sonny pulled one finger from Luca's grip, then the other. The baby wobbled, arms out, trying to find his balance now that he was unassisted.

"Good job, baby! Come here!" Amanda encouraged him excitedly, waving him over.

With a drooling grin, Luca took one clumsy step forward, then another. His hands reached out for his mother, grabbing at air as he walked toward her. Once in front of Amanda, he swayed before falling forward into her.

" _You did it!_ " she exclaimed, catching Luca's little body and squeezing him into her torso. She kissed his head and cheek. "Good job!"

"Oh ye of little faith," Sonny said to Amanda smugly, arms crossed over his chest with satisfaction as he looked down at them. He crouched down to rub a big palm up and down Luca's back. "I knew you could do it, buddy."

Luca in her lap, she continued to cradle him against her lovingly. She thought back about the years before her son, when Jesse had taken her first steps in her old apartment. Amanda had turned her back on her daughter for one second, and when she turned around again, she found Jesse clinging to the coffee table. Without prompting, she clambered across the living room toward her mother. Alone, Amanda had cried - partly because she was happy, partly because she was in awe to be reminded that she had a growing human in her care. More than anything, though, she was proud. She surprised herself by going into work the next day and announcing Jesse's accomplishment to everybody, like one of those mothers she used to make fun of, the kind that seemed to Facebook each time their kid blinked. She finally understood what they were so excited about all the time, how amazing it was to watch something you created thrive right before your eyes...

"Amanda? Hello," Sonny called to her, interrupting her train of thought. "You listenin' to me?"

She peered up at him as he stood tall, hovering over her again. "Huh? What? No. What'd you say?"

"I asked you if you wanted to take a walk and get dinner," he explained.

Her phone buzzed on the coffee table.

"Oh, yeah. Sure," Amanda agreed as she picked up her device, thumb swiping open the screen to read her messages.

There was a single text in her inbox, from Declan Murphy. _You win,_ it read.


	25. Chapter 25

It happened quickly: Declan didn't text her again, but the next message came through the State department, letting Amanda know that he was willing to surrender Jesse. The agents couldn't - or wouldn't - give any insight to his thought process or motivation, but she didn't care so much about that. They _did_ inform her that Jesse would not be brought back to the United States by Declan - it was too much of a risk, because he could be brazen enough to change his mind and divert her elsewhere. Instead, she would be escorted by an American female ambassador from the consulate. It took two days to arrange her travel, but the most agonizing part for Amanda was waiting for Jesse to finally appear in the 'arrivals' terminal.

"Do you see her, Sonny? I don't see her," Amanda asked nervously, wringing her hands together as she looked around the crowded airport that evening.

"No," Sonny answered, craning his neck to see over the hoards of people. His hands rested atop the handle of Luca's stroller. "These international flights are always huge, though..."

"What if something happened?" She looked at her phone for any indication that things hadn't gone according to plan - not a single new message.

"We would have heard something," he insisted.

Then she heard it, the outcry Amanda would know anywhere: "Mama!"

That was her daughter's voice. She whirled around on her heel to see Jesse sprinting toward her, the little girl's hair flying behind her, her hands holding the straps of her familiar purple backpack at her shoulders. She had clearly broken away from her escort - a kind-looking woman who followed just a few feet behind her.

"Jesse!" Amanda exclaimed, crouching down with her arms spread open. Jesse collided into her full-force and she immediately wrapped her up in an embrace, picking the little girl up off the ground as she stood up straight again. Squeezing her tightly, she pressed a kiss into the side of Jesse's head. The familiar scent of her daughter's hair brought a sudden rush of tears to her eyes; she had missed her so, so much. It was as if the void inside of her had been suddenly yet completely filled. "Hi, baby. I'm so glad you're home," Amanda told her breathlessly, tone as bright as possible given how emotional she was.

"I missed you, mama." Jesse's voice was small and shaky as all of her limbs stayed wrapped around Amanda's frame.

She pulled back slightly to anxiously look at her daughter's face: Jesse's big, brown eyes were shining. She looked exhausted and frightened, her lower lip puffed out in a tremulous pout. "It's alright, Jess. You're home now," Amanda reassured her quietly, swallowing hard over the lump in her throat and trying to keep herself from totally falling apart.

Jesse rested her head on Amanda's shoulder, tightening her arms and legs around her.

"There's my girl," Sonny greeted the toddler cheerfully, like she had merely been away all day at school. He hovered close to Amanda's side as he smoothed a palm over Jesse's head lovingly. "We missed you."

Jesse reached a hand out in Sonny's direction, leaning her body toward his until he got the hint: he pulled her from Amanda's arms to carry her instead. Then she grabbed for her mother, like she didn't want Amanda to go too far just because she had momentarily traded adults. Crowded close into Sonny's side, Amanda set a comforting hand on Jesse's back. Usually talkative and tirelessly inquisitive, Jesse was quiet, sniffling and frowning with her head on Sonny's shoulder.

"Amanda?"

She looked up to see the woman who had accompanied Jesse standing quietly before them, clearly wanting to be respectful of their reunion.

"Hi," Amanda greeted her, moving away from Jesse and holding out her hand for the woman to shake. "I'm Amanda." She gestured behind her and added, "that's my husband, Dominick."

"Nice to meet you. I'm Bridget," she said with a kind smile.

"Thank you so much for bringing her. I just, we've been so... just, thank you," Amanda rambled.

"Of course. It's all a part of my job. She's a sweet little girl," Bridget replied with a nod. "She's pretty tired and confused, though. This has been a lot for her."

Hot tears suddenly slipped down Amanda's cheeks and she tried to hurriedly brush them away. "I know. I'm not really sure how to..."

"Usually kids talk about this stuff - what's happened - in their own time," she explained gently. "She hasn't said much to me."

"That's weird, though. Usually you can't shut her up," Amanda whispered weakly.

She nodded again. "I think she's overwhelmed. My recommendation is that you try to spend as much time with her as possible, but get back to normal routines. Bath time, bed time, that sort of thing."

"Yeah, okay. I can do that."

"Maybe ask her a few things, feel her out, see if she says anything once she's home."

Amanda chewed her lower lip. "You don't think she's like..."

"Hm?"

"Permanently traumatized or anything, do you?"

"Kids are incredibly resilient. But she's been away from you and out of her element for seven days, so only time will tell," Bridget reasoned. "In order to close the case, the State will have her meet with their child psychologist in a couple of days. Hopefully that'll give you some peace of mind."

She swallowed. "Yeah, it's just, with the work I do, I always..."

"Assume the worst?" she completed Amanda's sentence with a wry smile.

"Yeah," Amanda admitted sheepishly.

"Forget about being a detective right now," Bridget suggested gently. "Just be a mother."

* * *

Sonny made one of Jesse's favorite dinners: macaroni and cheese. Not the kind from the box, either, even though Amanda was well-aware that the orange pasta was one of his guilty pleasures (and he was always not-so-secretly thrilled when Jesse specifically requested it). He had made this particular meal from scratch, but despite his heartfelt efforts, Jesse didn't eat much. She pushed food around her plate for a little while before telling them that her stomach hurt.

After the table was cleared and the dishes were done, Amanda sat on the couch next to Sonny with Jesse between them. The little girl kept her favorite stuffed rabbit, Bunny, in her lap, stroking him gently like he was her pet. Over the toddler's head, Amanda glanced at Sonny, who was watching her expectantly, waiting for her to initiate a conversation.

"Y'know, Jesse, we missed you so much," Amanda began carefully. She used gentle fingers to brush hair away from Jesse's forehead. "Y'wanna tell us what happened?"

Jesse looked over at her, eyes wide. "Am I in trouble?"

"No, no, of course not!" she said quickly, squeezing her daughter's arm. "None of this is your fault. I just wanna know what happened, that's all."

"Well... my other dad came to get me from school and said we were going on an adventure," Jesse explained slowly, turning her attention back to her stuffed animal.

"An adventure, huh?" Sonny repeated curiously.

She nodded. "So we went on an airplane for a really long time. It made my ears hurt," she went on, then added meekly, "I had soda even though you don't let me. I'm sorry."

"It's okay," Amanda assured her gently. "Then what happened?"

"Then we went to a farm. There were sheep."

"What'd you do there?"

"It was boring. Lots of grown-ups." She frowned as she toyed with the rabbit's floppy ears. "Where were you?"

Amanda's chest tightened as she watched her. "I was here, baby. Trying to get you back."

She looked over at her mother, her little brow furrowed. "Why didn't you come?" Jesse asked.

She sounded so genuinely confused; Amanda could have sworn that her heart was breaking into a million little pieces inside of her chest. How the hell was she supposed to explain this to a four year old? She could barely make sense of it all herself. "I wanted to, Jesse, but the... uh, police said I couldn't," she tried, voice thick with emotion.

"But you're the police," her daughter reminded her cleverly.

"I know, these are... different kinds of police than mama and dad are. Special ones," Amanda told her. "So we had to do what they said and wait right here for you."

"I didn't like it," Jesse whispered.

"I know," she barely managed to croak. "Neither did I."

* * *

Sonny used a towel to roughly dry his wet head after his shower that night. When he tossed it aside, his hair was damp and wild. Bare-chested in old basketball shirts, he pulled a t-shirt on. "You look upset," he observed, catching Amanda's eye once he was clothed.

Holding a mug of tea in her palms as she sat cross-legged on their bed, Amanda hadn't realized she had been frowning as she watched him. She had laid with Jesse for an hour before the little girl finally fell asleep at ten o'clock, and Amanda had expected to feel better now that she knew her daughter was back in her own room. Instead, she was gripped by a different kind of uneasiness. She sighed. "I'm just... I dunno," she answered Sonny in the least helpful way possible.

He perched himself on the edge of the bed next to her. "It's 'cause of what Jesse said earlier, isn't it?" he guessed.

"I just feel so guilty," she admitted quietly, toying with the string of her tea bag. "Imagine bein' her age and wondering why your own mom didn't come get you?"

"It's too complicated for her to understand right now."

"But did you see the look on her face? She looked so sad. I'm afraid she thinks I don't love her. And I just... I don't like that I don't know what happened over there."

"Don't start thinkin' like that, Amanda."

"I can't help it. What if-"

"Give her some time to readjust. Let the psychologist do their job and then this'll all be over," Sonny interrupted her in his firm but compassionate way. He set a hand on her knee. "She's a tough kid, she'll be okay."

Amanda nodded, eyes on the remaining liquid in her mug. "What do you think is gonna happen to Murphy?"

He cringed slightly. "He may be lookin' at state prison time."

"For how long?"

"I don't know. I did some research a few days ago and it could be up to fifteen years. Or he could get probation and a buncha fines. It depends on a lot of stuff."

"Yeah..."

"But he interfered with your custody agreement - he transported a minor to another country without your permission - so he's seriously damaged his standing in family court."

"I mean, yeah, but what does that really mean?"

"He's probably gonna lose his rights to Jesse."

"Do you really think-"

" _Mama!_ "

Jesse's shriek tore through the apartment. Alarmed, Amanda and Sonny both jumped up from the bed to run out into the hallway, Frannie close at their heels. Amanda flung open Jesse's bedroom door and flipped on the light. She found Jesse sitting up in bed, red-faced and crying, her grip tight on Bunny. The dog jumped up beside her and began to lick the little girl's cheek, but it didn't do anything to stop her tears.

"What? What is it, Jesse?" Amanda demanded anxiously, frantically looking around for the cause of her daughter's distress.

Jesse's heaving sobs were making her breathless, her small body shaking with the force of them. "I..."

"Hey, it's alright," Amanda soothed, bending down to smooth a hand over Jesse's head. "Did you have a bad dream?"

"Yes..." Jesse stammered, sniffling as her hands rubbed haphazardly at her eyes. "I... I... woke up and didn't know where I was!"

"You're home, Jesse. With us," Sonny reminded her, voice quiet. "It's okay, see? I'm here, your mom's here, your brother and Frannie are here. We're all here."

She hiccuped as she tried to catch her breath, nodding quickly and obediently at Sonny's observation. Tears still dropped sporadically onto the fabric of her blue pajama shirt and her nose was running.

Amanda took a few tissues from her daughter's dresser and began to pat gently at Jesse's face, cleaning her up. "How about you come lay down with us for a little while?" she suggested. "Frannie will come too, she'll watch out for you. She's good at that."

Jesse nodded. With her rabbit's ear in hand, she clambered off of her bed and padded into the hallway, Amanda and Sonny close behind her. In the bedroom, Amanda pulled back the comforter and sheets so the toddler could climb beneath them, flopping onto her stomach right in the middle of the mattress. She joined her there, propping herself up on her side, head in her hand. Jesse's cheek rested on a pillow while her mother ran a soothing palm up and down the little girl's back. It took a little while, but soon Jesse's eyelashes began to flutter and her breathing took on a new, steady rhythm. It was only when Amanda was confident she was asleep that she took her hand away and relaxed her own body.

Sonny was stretched out along his side of the bed, reading. Through heavy eyelids, Amanda watched him until she eventually rolled over. She had never met a person who read more than he did, but that was probably why he was constantly brimming with random facts. Sometimes it got on her nerves, but for the most part, she liked that about him. He knew a lot, and when he didn't know, he didn't try to bullshit her. She understood why law appealed to Sonny: there were absolutes, but there were also many different ways to approach a single problem, if only one did enough research. It wasn't about feelings or matters of the heart. Throughout Jesse's ordeal, he had been logical and inquisitive - while Amanda had let emotion cloud everything.

Curled up on her side facing away from Jesse, she felt herself drifting off to sleep. She was so comfortable - when was the last time she had actually been able to relax? Amanda had never been the best at getting rest, but with Jesse missing, her insomnia had increased tenfold. Now it was all catching up with her, her limbs warm and heavy, her brain fuzzy with static. Everyone she loved was safe in one room, and that was enough.

"Daddy?" Jesse's little voice drifted into Amanda's awareness. She briefly contemplated encouraging her to go back to sleep, but she was too tired and maybe Sonny would do it. Jesse tended to listen to him more, anyway.

"Hm?" Sonny responded.

"Do I have to have my other dad?" Jesse asked.

Amanda's heart jumped in her chest, suddenly alert, but she kept her eyes closed to keep up the facade that she was still asleep. Really, she was just a coward: she didn't want to be a part of this conversation.

"What do you mean?" she heard Sonny ask slowly. Amanda could picture the look on his face: brows knitted together, a frown tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"I don't want to," the four-year-old said.

"Your dad made a big mistake, takin' you on a plane like that. But... lots of people make mistakes," Sonny told her diplomatically.

She could practically hear the wheels in Jesse's mind turning in the silence that followed. She opened her eyes, nervous.

"Ella only has one dad," Jesse concluded, referencing her friend downstairs.

"Yeah, I know."

"Do you have one dad?"

"Yeah, I have one."

" _Seeee?_ " Jesse sing-songed.

"You're just like your mother, you know that?" Sonny responded with a quiet chuckle.

"What's that mean?"

"It means you're a smart cookie."

"I'm not a cookie!" she giggled.

"I dunno about that, you're pretty sweet," he insisted playfully. Amanda felt the mattress shift. "C'mon, it's way past your bedtime. Go back to sleep."

"Will you rub my back?" Jesse whined.

"Didn't your mother just do that for an hour?" Sonny asked skeptically.

"Again," she pleaded. "She's sleeping."

"Okay," he sighed. "Close your eyes."

Amanda sensed Jesse wriggling deeper beneath the covers next to her, getting comfortable. For a little while, it was quiet, and Amanda assumed that Jesse was content. She felt so many things, but mostly she was immensely grateful. There was no handbook on how to navigate a situation like this, but Sonny simply took it in stride. She knew this conversation would happen again and maybe the next time it wouldn't go so smoothly, but for now, Amanda was relieved.

"I love you, Jess. Y'know that?" Sonny whispered, breaking the silence.

"Yes," Jesse murmured sleepily. "I know."


	26. Chapter 26

When Amanda worked late, Sonny was in charge.

Technically, he was outnumbered, but being around too many kids was in Sonny's blood. Plus, Jesse and Luca were relatively easy to please. Once they were both fed dinner, the two played with Legos on the living room floor. It mostly consisted of Jesse being bossy in her sweetest voice - something she undoubtedly inherited from her mother - while Luca babbled and knocked blocks together. Sonny did work on the couch with his laptop until seven o'clock, occasionally stealing glances at the siblings to make sure they were each keeping their hands to themselves. Eventually, he sneakily crept into the bedroom to catch the beginning of the basketball game; the Disney Channel was on in the living room and he wasn't dumb enough to attempt to change it.

Sonny didn't sit down: he stood in front of the screen, hoping to view even just a few minutes of ESPN uninterrupted - but ready to run back to the kids at a second's notice. For the past few days, Jesse's behavior had been relatively normal despite all she had been through, leading Sonny to believe that he had been right about her remarkable resilience. Even so, she was still a toddler, which meant that inherently she was unpredictable. Despite her tantrums and stubbornness, Sonny loved her unconditionally. Enduring her wild moments meant that he was a part of her life, somebody who got to watch and help her grow, and that was all he cared about. _I think you love Jesse more than me,_ Amanda used to pout years ago, when Jesse was just a chubby, giggling baby. He didn't, of course - he loved her in an entirely different way.

"Luca! Why did you do that?!" Jesse's voice cried from the other room.

The baby laughed and squealed excitedly.

"It's not funny!" the little girl shrieked.

"Oh, Jesus Christ," Sonny muttered, tearing his gaze away from the television to take a few long strides back into the living room.

He found Luca sitting on the floor amid a pile of Legos, Jesse looming over him menacingly. The baby began to grab for some of the colorful blocks curiously - until his sister yanked them out of his hand.

"No! These are mine!" Jesse yelled as she snatched them away.

Confused, her brother's eyes grew big and he began to wail.

"Hey, what the hell is goin' on in here? I can't leave you two alone for five minutes without you killin' one another?" Sonny demanded.

"Luca knocked down my castle!" Jesse pointed an angry finger at her brother.

"I'm sure he didn't mean it. I bet it was an accident," he reasoned gently over the sound of the baby crying.

"These are all mine," she declared brazenly, using her little arms and hands to scoop up as many Legos as she could carry. "They are not for babies."

"You gotta share," Sonny reminded her, leaning down to pick up Luca. "C'mon, you know that."

"Sharing is stupid!" Jesse said with a scowl.

Sonny bounced Luca against his side, hoping to calm him down. He looked from the baby to Jesse, frowning. "Hey, that's not a nice thing to say."

Jesse stomped her small foot as she spat, "I hate you!"

His eyes widened; he had never heard so much venom in a four-year-old's voice before. God, she really was her mother. "Whoa, whoa, whoa. We do not say that word," he reprimanded her sternly, holding out a free hand. "Go to your room. You and me are gonna have a talk."

"No!"

"I'm countin' to three-"

"You're not my dad!"

Oh.

Okay.

Sonny had always known this day would come. It made sense that it would happen now, after her confusing ordeal with Declan, but he hadn't anticipated how terrible it would feel to hear Jesse speak the truth. It was the ultimate rejection.

"Jesse..." he began carefully, even though he was totally at a loss as to how to address what she had just said.

"No!" she repeated forcefully before storming off to her room and slamming the door as hard as a toddler possibly good.

* * *

With arms full of dry cleaning, Amanda came home. The apartment was dim - it was a quarter to nine, which meant both children were sleeping. As Sonny had predicated weeks earlier, Amanda had asked him to put Luca's crib _back_ into the living room a few days ago; she could hear the baby snoring softly as she tiptoed toward the bedroom. Since Jesse's return, she had only been back to work for three days, her schedule now totally opposite from Sonny's. They kept missing one another except for sporadic interactions in the squad room or right before one of them passed out, so Amanda was glad to be back at a somewhat reasonable hour that night.

Things with Jesse seemed to have returned to normal - she had difficulty sleeping occasionally, but had resumed eating, playing and incessantly talking. Paranoid, Amanda was still anxious for her daughter's upcoming visit with the child psychologist, as well as how she was going to navigate Declan's eventual return to the States - if he ever decided to come back. In the scheme of things, they were better problems to have than a kidnapped child. At least with Jesse home safe, Amanda felt like she could resume all of her necessary activities of daily living without being preoccupied by her heartache.

She found Sonny in his usual position: lanky frame stretched out on their bed as he sat up, watching ESPN. His hand carded through his own hair absently while his eyes stayed glued on the television screen, even when she entered the room.

"Hey," Amanda greeted him. She dropped the dry cleaning onto the mattress with a sigh. Between the two of them, there were a lot of items to hang up. She would get to it later since Sonny loathed anything even resembling laundry. "How's it going?"

"Fine," Sonny answered her vaguely, eyes flickering over to her then back to the remainder of the Kings-Spurs game. "How was work?"

She took her gun off of her waist and secured the safety before walking to the closet where they hid the lock box. She stood on her tip-toes to reach it on a high shelf. "Not bad," Amanda answered him, gently setting her firearm beside Sonny's then shutting the little metal door. "Nothing too crazy. How was it here?"

Amanda glanced over her shoulder to see him shrug.

She had to get out of her clothes. She started tugging the hem of her white button-up, pulling it out from the waist of her pants. "That good?" she asked him dryly with a quirked eyebrow, simultaneously kicking off her shoes with a flourish.

As she began to get undressed, she suddenly remembered a few things that she had wanted to tell Sonny. They hadn't had a chance to talk much in the past few days and she figured that if she didn't get it all out now, she would definitely forget to later. "Jesse's gonna see that psychologist tomorrow morning," she began, drifting across the room. "And, speaking of Jesse, I got an e-mail about her t-ball team for next season. I guess they really take this shit seriously, they already wanna know if you wanna help coach again. The schedule's not out yet obviously but it's probably similar to how it was this year. I mean, how rigorous can training a bunch of four and five year olds be? It's not even real baseball," Amanda babbled. "Also, Luca has a doctor's appointment on Friday at two - just a check-up and he needs a few vaccines. I don't know why I made it for that time, but whatever. I'll just take a few hours of personal time and get it done rather than reschedule."

She hopped into a pair of sweatpants and, in just her bra, began rifling around a dresser drawer for a t-shirt. "Bella texted me asking if we wanna take all the kids trick-or-treating in Staten Island this year, but I dunno. Luca probably won't last very long if they go too late and I don't wanna mess up his bedtime. So maybe one of us can go out and the other can stay. I just... ugh, I forgot what else I was gonna tell you." She slapped her hand to her forehead and shut her eyes for a second, hoping it would come back to her. "I feel like there's so much stuff," she sighed. "It's like, endless. D'you really wanna have another kid? They have busier lives than we do and they're only four-and-a-half and nine months old. Not to mention Frannie - fuck, ah, that's what it was! I forgot to get her an appointment with the vet."

She unhooked her bra and tossed it aside. Pulling a shirt over her head, Amanda turned around and eyed Sonny expectantly through her disheveled bangs. He was very obviously not paying attention to her - he wasn't even looking in her direction. She crossed her arms over her chest, waiting for his response, then dropped them to her sides. "Uh, hello? Did you hear a word I just said?"

Sonny snapped to attention, appearing guilty. "Uh..."

Her mouth fell open with a realization. "You weren't even watching me get undressed!" she exclaimed melodramatically. Mostly kidding, she added, "oh, God, is that where we're at now? Am I boring and unattractive?"

"No! I was watchin'. And listenin'," Sonny insisted quickly, scrambling to sit up a little straighter.

"So what'd I just say?" Amanda challenged him.

"You said..." He shifted uneasily. "You said that work wasn't bad and you got all your paperwork done and you and Fin got Chinese food for dinner."

She rolled her eyes. "I didn't say any of that."

He flashed her his most charming grin. "Okay, well, admit it: it was a damn good guess."

Her eyes narrowed, suspicious. "What's wrong with you?

"Nothing is wrong with me!" he chuckled with a shake of his head.

After studying him for a moment, Amanda walked over to the bed. She straddled his lap and sat back on her haunches, effectively blocking his view of the television. Her fingertips drifted up and down his chest. "Alright then, tell me about your night."

Sonny set his palms atop her thighs. "Eh, well..."

Her brow furrowed, instantly concerned. "What? Jesse? Luca? The dog? What? I knew there was something," Amanda demanded.

"Everybody's fine," he assured her. "It's just something Jesse said to me."

She winced. "Did she say 'fuck' again? I know that's my fault, I-"

"No, she didn't swear."

"So what'd she say, Sonny?"

"Well, she had built this massive Lego castle and of course the baby knocked it over. She got pissed off and started yellin' and hoggin' all the blocks so he couldn't play with them again," he explained. "So I told her to share, and she said sharin' was stupid..." He cringed as he concluded, "then she said she hated me and that I wasn't her dad."

Amanda's mouth hung open, genuinely shocked. She was expecting Sonny to report some foot-stamping, or maybe that Frannie ate too fast and threw up on the kitchen floor - not this. Her heart sunk into the pit of her stomach. "What did you say?"

"Nothin'. She just stormed off to her room and refused to speak to me. She even put herself to bed," Sonny admitted.

"I... wow. I can't believe she said that." Her eyes anxiously flickered over Sonny's features - he looked worried. Her fingers dropped to his sides, curling around the fabric of his t-shirt. She gave it an earnest tug. "Don't be upset, she didn't mean it," Amanda promised softly. "This thing with Murphy, I think it's got her totally confused. I'm gonna talk to her."

He shook his head. "No, I think I should. This is between the two of us, y'know?"

She frowned, shoulders slumping. For some reason, she felt incredibly guilty. "Y'all have always gotten along so well, I just never thought..."

"I knew she'd say it one of these days," Sonny told her quietly. "I just, I really think... I dunno, you've tried to have a conversation with her about Murphy before but she wasn't ready to hear it. Maybe now, after all this, it'd be a good time to try again." He ran his fingers through his hair. "I wanna do it because... well, it's about me. I don't want this to go any farther, or get any worse."

"Are you sure?" Amanda asked him timidly.

He nodded, expression serious. "I'm not gonna feel better about it till I at least try." He sighed. "As fucked up as it was, maybe... maybe what Murphy did was a blessin' in disguise. 'Cause if he loses his rights..."

"Yeah, I know," she said softly, understanding exactly what he was implying. "I know."

* * *

"Hey, Jess. Can I come in?" Sonny tapped his knuckles on the ajar door to Jesse's room.

"Yes," her little voice responded.

Stepping inside, he found the four-year-old ready for the day. She was wearing a dress covered in purple stars, hot pink tights beneath it. Light blue Chuck Taylors were on her feet and a multi-colored, flowered headband was in her hair. Amanda was in the shower, so the toddler had very clearly put the outfit together herself.

"Wow, you look pretty," Sonny observed.

"Thank you," Jesse chirped. She pushed her headband back further into her hair. "Mama says I have to see the doctor." She leaned down, clumsily attempting to tie her sneakers. Her fine motor skills were good, but it was still a challenging task for small fingers.

"Here, can I help ya?" he offered.

She let go of the laces and stood up straight again. "Yes, please."

He lifted Jesse up to sit her on the edge of her bed. Crouching down in front of her, Sonny tightened the laces of one of her All Stars. "Last night, you were pretty mad at me, huh?" he reminded her casually.

"Yes... you made me share with the baby," she grumbled.

"I did." He moved on to the other sneaker, gaze on the toddler. "You remember what you said to me after that?"

Jesse scrunched up her nose, the spitting image of her mother. "No."

Shoes tied, Sonny stood up straight again. He sat down on the bed beside her. "Well, alright. Let me talk to you about something really important," he explained. "Before you were even born, I knew your mother. I loved her a lot."

She nodded. "Uh huh..."

"And then you came around, and I loved ya both," he went on carefully with a smile. "Your other dad... he helped make you, but he went away for a long time-"

"Where?"

"He had to... work, far away. In another country. He wasn't able to be your dad." He turned toward her, looking into her curious brown eyes as he continued gently, "so me and your mother, we looked out for you. We took care of you. And we're always gonna do that, okay? Your other dad might have said some... not-so-nice stuff about me, but I want you to know that no matter what anybody tells you, I love you."

"I told him that," she insisted eagerly.

He raised his eyebrows. "Told him what?"

"I told him that you're my dad and you love me. He got mad." Jesse's brow furrowed as she appeared to think in silence for a moment. Eventually she looked over at Sonny. "I want you to still be my dad."

He smiled at her. "I want that, too. So I've been thinkin': what if me and your mom, what if we could sign a special piece of paper that meant everybody would know I'm your dad?"

"Okay," Jesse agreed cheerfully, easily. "Today?"

"No," he chuckled as he set a hand on her knee. "Not today. We got some things to figure out first. But, maybe soon."

"'K" She hopped off of her bed and looked at him expectantly, eyes bright. "Can we get a blueberry muffin before the doctor's, daddy?"

* * *

 **AN:** I'm thinking about doing some loosely connected one-shots of Rollisi & crew going forward. They would be about some more normal-ish stuff like holidays, Disney World, another baby?, maybe buying a house... would that interest anybody or are you guys sick of these fools yet? Let me know! Happy weekend. :)


	27. Chapter 27

**AN:** The "loosely connected one-shots" I mentioned will happen after this story is done... if you have any particular scenes you'd like to see (I know some of them already!) tell me! I'll try my best to include them. For now, here's some Jesse news, Declan updates and Sonny stuff, too.

* * *

"Huh. Did you know a one-year-old has approximately three thousand taste buds?"

Amanda cast a sideways glance over at Sonny. He sat beside her in the elegant waiting room, nose in a _Parenting_ magazine he had picked up from the mahogany coffee table.

"What?" She rolled her eyes and swatted his arm. "Put that down."

"I'm learnin' stuff," he told her defensively. "Plus, this lady is takin' forever. What's she doin' in there with her, ink blots?"

"I don't know, Sonny," Amanda sighed. "Whatever psychologists do. Ask a lot of questions, probably."

"I hope it goes okay," he murmured, tossing the magazine aside and crossing his arms over his chest. He yawned loudly. "I need another cuppa coffee."

One of the doors eventually creaked open, revealing the young woman Amanda knew to be the psychologist, Michelle. "Mr. and Mrs. Carisi?" she greeted them with a smile. "Come in."

They obediently got up from their seats and sat down in front of Michelle's desk instead. Much like the window in Liv's office at the precinct, there was a pane of glass looking into a play room where Jesse could be seen rummaging through an overflowing toy box. She had no idea they were all meeting in the office on the other side.

"Well, first of all, Jesse is an extremely bright little girl," Michelle began.

"Thanks," Amanda murmured.

Michelle flipped through the scribbled notes in front of her. "So, of course I asked her about the abduction during this evaluation... from what she told me, it sounds like she thought she was going on some kind of adventure," she explained. She looked up to meet Amanda's eyes. "It seems like she assumed you'd show up eventually. When you didn't, she started getting scared."

Amanda's heart sunk into her stomach; her guilt returned full-force. All she could do was nod.

"She denies anybody touching and hurting her while she was there," the psychologist continued. "Your ex-husband-"

"Oh, no. No. We were never married," she interrupted her firmly. It was a fairly irrelevant detail, but for some reason, Amanda needed to let this total stranger know that she had never made the terrible choice to wed somebody like Declan Murphy.

"Ah, sorry." Michelle smiled sheepishly. "Your ex said some 'bad words' and got angry, but that seems to be it. Jesse is able to identify that her father made a mistake, although she's still too young to understand the reasoning behind it. She seems to like Declan well enough - she isn't scared of him - but she doesn't exhibit any sort of attachment or strong feelings toward him." She shuffled some papers again. "When Jesse talks about her family, she can identify you two as her parents. She told me she has a brother and a dog. She drew this picture of you all." She slid a crayon drawing across the surface of the desk.

Amanda and Sonny leaned forward simultaneously to look at it: it was a crude stick-figure depiction of their family. Amanda's hair was yellow and Sonny was comically tall beside her. Frannie had too many legs and Luca was hanging oddly off of what had to be Amanda's hand. The image made both detectives smile.

"She told me what her day is usually like and what her favorite things are. She seems like a very happy, well-adjusted kid," Michelle continued. "My recommendation is that, going forward, if you're hoping for her to have some kind of relationship with Declan that-"

"No, we're not." Sonny finally spoke, his tone firm. "After this... we don't trust him, he's too unpredictable. We started the paperwork to terminate his rights."

"I'm not sure he's going to return to the States, either," Amanda added. "He's a lieutenant with NYPD, he's pretty smart. He knows what laws he broke."

"I see. Well, I want to assure you that Jesse appears to be a perfectly normal four-year-old even despite this experience," Michelle concluded. "The important thing is that you continue to be honest and open with her if she ever asks any questions about it. She can handle it. You don't want to start keeping secrets about this stuff; it'll be a nightmare when she's older."

"We've tried to explain to her about... her dad, and me, and all of that," Sonny told her earnestly. "Just this morning I talked to her, told her I loved her and everything, that we're always gonna be there to take care of her."

Michelle smiled. "Keep doing that," she told him. "It matters."

* * *

On a chilly October morning, Sonny's pace matched Amanda's as they ran down the boardwalk in Hunter's Point park. The fog by the water was lifting as dawn gradually transitioned into a crisp fall day; it was Amanda's favorite weather to exercise in. It was rare that she and Sonny could run together anymore, but Jesse and Luca were at their grandparents' house till Sunday, which meant they could have a couple of hours with one another before they headed into work that Friday. They didn't talk much as they completed mile after mile, but it was more about doing something together than communicating. Amanda liked the experience: the sound of their feet simultaneously pounding the pavement, their breath visible before them in white clouds, their eyes meeting occasionally as they rounded corners or bounced down stairs.

Her phone secure in the tight pocket of her Nike zip-up, she felt it vibrate against her stomach. Afraid it might be Liv calling, she kept her stride while pulling it from its confines to look at the screen. Declan's name flashed in front of her and she came skidding to a halt, simultaneously grabbing at Sonny with her free hand.

He stopped clumsily, looking confused. "What?" he asked breathlessly, brows knitted together. His cheeks were pink from the cold and exertion. "We said seven miles, it's only been-"

"No, no, look," she panted, holding out her phone for him to see.

Sonny squinted at the screen, then he met Amanda's eyes. "I bet you anything he got the stuff from the lawyer."

Amanda pressed her phone to her ear. "Hello?"

"I got the paperwork you sent me," Declan said quietly after a beat of silence. "You want me to give up my rights to Jesse."

"No, Declan. You broke the law and you know it. Don't play victim with me," Amanda corrected him curtly, pacing around with one hand on her hip, trying to catch her breath both from her run and her mounting anxiety.

Declan sighed. "Jesse is... she is a good kid."

She watched Sonny as he hovered, his chest rising and falling, expression stern. "I know she is. Just sign it. I'm not askin' you to come back to the States. I'm not even trying to get you arrested," she pleaded. "Sign it and stay there. The brass is probably gonna force you into early retirement anyway. Do whatever you want to do, just... I need that paperwork."

"Is that really all you want?" he asked her quietly.

"Yes," Amanda insisted. "That's all I want."

"So, Carisi is going to adopt her?" Surprisingly, Declan's tone was matter-of-fact, not angry.

"Yes..." Her free hand tugged nervously at her braid. She softened her voice and continued, "Declan... I know this has been a mess. It's been a mess even before Jesse was born. But I'm not doing this just to hurt you, I swear it. This isn't about me. I'm doing this because I want my kid to grow up with two parents who can be there for her. You know I never had that and... this way, it's best for Jesse."

She waited for him to respond, the silence torturous. Just when she was about to prompt him, he spoke up quietly: "I'll sign them today. Tell your lawyer to look for them this week."

Amanda nearly collapsed with relief. She gripped the wooden railing along the boardwalk. "Thank you. I really just... thank you," she whispered. "I appreciate-"

"Don't, Amanda," Declan interrupted her, his voice low but strained. "Don't say anything else."

"I - okay," she stammered. There was a sudden heaviness in her chest that hadn't been there moments before.

He hung up.

Lowering her hand, she blinked down at the screen of her phone. She didn't regret pressing Declan to terminate his rights, but she felt oddly sad for him - for how his behavior had brought him to such an extreme, isolated place.

"He's gonna do it?" Sonny asked anxiously.

She nodded. "He said so, and I actually believe him."

He eyed her suspiciously. "What is it? What's wrong?"

"No, nothing. It's just, he sounded... sad," she told him meekly, shoving her phone back into her pocket.

Sonny rolled his eyes, appearing exasperated. "Oh, don't start this shit again."

"I'm not!" Amanda insisted. "I just never thought he'd give up so easily. He sounds totally defeated."

"He kidnapped a kid, broke like, three Federal laws and ruined his reputation in NYPD. He _is_ defeated, Amanda," he reminded her.

"I know, I know... just, okay. Forget him for a second," Amanda said quickly, waving her hands. She took a step forward and tugged at Sonny's sweaty NYPD t-shirt. "You know what this means?" she asked him eagerly, smiling.

Any annoyance that had taken over his features dissipated as he peered down at her. "Yeah. Yeah, I know," Sonny said coyly with a widening grin.

On the toes of her sneakers, she kissed him before flinging her arms around him in a tight, damp hug. "I've wanted this forever," she admitted.

"Forever?" he chuckled, squeezing her.

She pulled back and looked at him with an amused, raised eyebrow. "Since the day you took me to lunch when I was on maternity leave and taught me how to hold my own baby."

* * *

"Amanda? Amanda!"

Amanda was half-awake and vaguely aware that it was three in the morning when she heard Sonny's voice. Her back turned, she felt him close behind her.

"Hmm, Sonny, stop. It's too early," she hummed groggily, pulling the sheets further up her body. She assumed he wanted to have sex - and she would have, too, if she hadn't been so comfortable. Blindly, she reached a hand behind her and patted his arm haphazardly. "Later," she promised him with a yawn.

"No, Amanda," she heard him say. "Gina just called me."

"So? She's probably out drinkin' and called you by mistake," she murmured, wriggling deeper beneath the warm covers. She was blissfully cozy. The further into October they progressed, the chillier their apartment became before the sun came up. She dreaded hauling herself out of bed and shivering until she was able to practically scald herself beneath a shower each morning; Sonny refused to turn on the heat until November, which her Atlanta blood just barely tolerated. She had fourteen more days to endure. "Bust her balls about it later."

She felt the mattress shift significantly, meaning Sonny had gotten out of bed. "It's my dad. He just, he had a heart attack."

Her eyes flew open and she scrambled to sit up. "What?!" she exclaimed.

Sonny was already pulling on clothes in the dark. Wearing a gray t-shirt, he shoved his long arms into a plaid button-down and shrugged it over his shoulders. "They're takin' him to University Hospital. I need you to, I need you to call Liv and tell her I-"

She turned on the light by her side of the bed. She watched him, her heart beating quickly in her chest. "Is he okay?" she asked anxiously. "Don't worry about Liv, I'll call her."

"I don't know, Gina was outta her mind, I could barely understand a word she was sayin'," he told her, buttoning his jeans before rushing around the room to grab his wallet and phone. "All I got was that my mother found him unconscious and called 9-1-1. I gotta, I need to get down there now."

Amanda certainly wasn't a doctor, but she had to assume that being unconscious as a result of a vital organ failing was never a good thing. She felt nauseous with growing worry. "Go, Sonny! Just go," she urged him. "I'll take care of things here."

"Okay, I'll call you when I get there," he promised her hurriedly before he disappeared out the door.

* * *

At five o'clock in the morning, Amanda approached the front desk of Staten Island University Hospital. Dressed in jeans and a rumpled white t-shirt, she had quickly thrown on clean clothes once a bleary-eyed Audrey had arrived to watch the kids. She had made sure to call Liv, too, who had encouraged her to head to Staten Island instead of bothering to come to work. With or without permission, Amanda would have gone to meet Sonny.

"Hi," she said to the elderly woman behind the computer. "I'm looking for Dominick Carisi."

She tapped at her keyboard. "Hm. This account is flagged for immediate family only." She looked at Amanda. "You are...?"

"I'm his daughter-in-law," she explained.

"He's in surgery. Ninth floor."

"Thanks."

The ninth floor was quiet, even though the large waiting room was occupied by all four Carisi children and their mother. Sonny was the only one standing, pacing the small space while the rest of them watched from their chairs. Their eyes simultaneously lifted when Amanda entered, all of them looking hopeful in the instant before they realized that she wasn't Dominick's doctor. She gave the group a meek wave before Sonny rushed over to her.

"Hey," Amanda greeted him softly, giving him a brief kiss. Her eyes searched his features: he seemed tired, worried, the lines on his forehead and around his eyes more pronounced in the stark institutional lighting. Her fingers loosely gripped the unbuttoned plaid of his shirt as she peered up at him. "What's going on?"

He ran a hand through his unruly hair before dropping it down at his side again. "He got outta bed in the middle of the night and just... collapsed. The sound woke my mother right up. He, uh, the doctor said he had a massive heart attack. They're doin' coronary artery bypass surgery right now, said they couldn't wait... but he's already been in there for two hours and we don't have any news..."

She opened her mouth in surprise then snapped it shut. She had never heard him sound so uneasy before; she had never seen him look so scared. "Nobody's said anything to you this whole time?" she whispered in disbelief.

"No." He shook his head. "I mean, I get it, it's five o'clock in the mornin', but-"

"This is a hospital, Sonny, and he's in major surgery. It doesn't matter what time it is!" she hissed, unable to control her outrage. She was suddenly fiercely protective of her husband - the person who was usually tirelessly looking out for her. "I'm gonna go ask."

"'Manda..." he said, tone warning.

"Politely. I'll do it politely," she assured him. She began to turn to walk away, determined. "Stay with your family."

He grabbed her arm gently. "Hey."

She paused and looked at him, confused. "What?"

"You are my family," he reminded her with a wan smile.

Features softening, she leaned back in to peck him on the lips again. "Stay with the rest of them, then."

Walking quietly away from Sonny, she rounded the corner to find the nurses' station. A young girl sat at a computer there; Amanda guessed that she wasn't older than twenty-five.

"Hi, excuse me," Amanda said softly, hovering at the desk. "My name is Amanda Ro- Carisi, and I'm looking for information about my dad."

"Carisi... Carisi..." the nurse repeated. "Dominick?"

"That's him. I'm just wondering how he's doing. It's been two hours since we've heard anything."

"Bypass surgery can take up to six hours."

"I get that. It's just, I'm sure you understand how stressful this is-"

"Look, we have two major surgeries going on simultaneously and a full ICU," she said briskly, appearing exasperated. "We don't have the time to be constantly updating families. We'll let you know when he's out."

Amanda raised her eyebrows. Now she was annoyed. She stayed silent for a moment, thinking. There was one method that was typically fool-proof when it came to getting information - as long as the other person was nervous enough - although she hadn't originally planned to utilize it.

"Y'know... both of my kids were in this hospital once," Amanda explained slowly, quietly. "We were driving home and got hit by a drunk driver. Everybody here was so nice, so helpful." A smirk tugged at her lips, gaze narrowing as she added coolly, "you must not have been working that night." Reaching into her pocket, she discreetly held up her badge just long enough for the nurse's eyes to grow wide with a new kind of understanding. "Let's start over, yeah? I'm looking for an update on Dominick Carisi. Can you find out his status for me?"

"Yeah, um," the nurse stammered, standing up. "Let me page an O.R. nurse for you."

"Thank you," Amanda replied sweetly. "I'll be waiting right here."


	28. Chapter 28

Mrs. Carisi had an iron grip on Amanda's hands once she returned to the waiting room. Her eyes were red and tired from crying as she searched her daughter-in-law's face in anticipation. She was very clearly barely holding herself together. Bella, Tommy, Gina and Teresa all hovered around the pair, eager for information.

"He's gonna be in there another hour or so. They said so far, everything is going according to plan," Amanda explained to the Carisis, reciting what a nurse had told her ten minutes ago. "That's all they could tell me."

"That's better than nothing," Gina said, and her siblings nodded in agreement.

"Thank you, Amanda," Sonny's mother told her gratefully with another squeeze of her hands. "I just... I hate not knowin', waiting around doing nothing..."

"Of course," she murmured. When Jesse was gone, she had become reacquainted with that same kind of helplessness. She didn't envy Sonny's mother now. Amanda's eyes flickered around the otherwise empty waiting room. "Where's Sonny?"

"He said he was gonna go take a walk," Teresa explained with a shrug. "I'm glad, 'cause his pacin' was makin' me nervous."

* * *

The chapel at Staten Island University hospital was large. Everything was cream-colored and white marble, the room lit by a warm glow behind the altar and rows of red prayer candles flickering against one wall. The pews were empty, save for one tall figure seated near the front. Amanda hovered in the doorway, unnoticed, watching. This wasn't a place where she was necessarily comfortable; she only went to church with Sonny on holidays, and even then he had to beg her repeatedly weeks beforehand. Organized religion made her uneasy, but she knew it brought Sonny peace. She wasn't at all surprised to find him in the chapel that morning.

Quietly, Amanda walked down the aisle. She slid into Sonny's pew wordlessly, eyes on the altar in front of them. A large, gold cross was prominently at its center. She wondered how many people came here each day seeking answers or solace while their loved ones' lives were in the hands of mere mortals.

"I thought I'd find you here," Amanda finally said softly. She cast a glance over at Sonny: his gaze was on his hands in his lap. She moved closer to him, the sides of their thighs pressed together. She slipped an arm beneath Sonny's so her fingers could intertwine with his. "You okay?"

Sonny nodded. "Yeah, I'm okay."

"I talked to a nurse. Your dad's still in surgery, but he's doing alright so far," she explained. She kept her tone low. "He should be done in an hour or so and they'll transfer him to ICU."

"Thanks for doin' that, 'Manda." He offered her a faint smile.

She only shrugged; it didn't feel like a special favor, it felt like a necessity.

"Where are the kids? What'd Liv say?" he asked her anxiously.

"Audrey's with them. Liv knows what's going on." She squeezed his hand. "Don't worry about any of that now."

He nodded. In silence, his thumb grazed over hers in a slow, steady rhythm. "You always think your parents are invincible," he mused after a few minutes. "Like, you grow up to realize they aren't perfect and they make mistakes like every other human, but you always sorta... subscribe to this fantasy that they're gonna live forever."

"Yeah, well, nothing can kill my mother. I've tried literally everything," Amanda joked cynically, hoping to lighten the mood. She sighed before adding gently, "he's gonna be okay, Sonny."

"Or he might not be," he responded flatly.

In that moment, their roles switched: now Sonny was the grim realist and Amanda was clinging to optimism - instead of the other way around. He had built her up so many times, she was now consumed by the desire to do the same for him, to give him that same sense of security even in the face of uncertainty.

She shook her head as she insisted, "he'll be alright."

Sonny glanced over at her curiously.

Angling her body toward his, she ran her free fingers through his disheveled hair, gently smoothing down a couple of particularly unruly strands. "It's that 'faith' thing you're always talking about," she reminded him softly.

"Yeah, well, I never said it was easy," Sonny sighed. After a moment of thoughtful silence, he grimaced. "My ma..."

"She's gonna be okay, too," Amanda told him sincerely. She covered their joined hands with her other palm. "And if she isn't, we'll take care of her. We'll help her. When your dad comes home to recover, we could even stay with them for a little while. The kids have so much stuff over there already and Frannie loves the yard. The commute'll be a bitch but I'm late every day anyway so it's not like Liv isn't used to it."

"I don't know..." he mumbled hesitantly.

"You gave me a family, Sonny, and you taught me how important it is to take care of it. And not just when it's easy - when it's shitty, too," she whispered. "Y'all are the best thing that have ever happened to me."

He peered over at her, smiling solemnly. Leaning in, he gave her a series of gentle kisses. "I love you so much."

Amanda rested her forehead against his, their noses bumping. "I love you, too. Y'wanna get some coffee or something?"

"Can we maybe just... sit here for a little while?" Sonny asked her almost timidly.

Normally, Amanda would have gotten out of anything even resembling a church as quickly as possible. Now, her need to help Sonny feel even the smallest bit better trumped any of her jaded notions about religion. She nodded, then rested her head on his shoulder. "Sure."

* * *

It was eight o'clock in the morning by the time Sonny's father was out of surgery. Still unconscious from anesthesia, Dominick Sr. was moved to a quiet ICU room. Tubes hung from his mouth and stomach and his arms were attached to various IV lines; even though he was alive, the sight of a ventilator breathing for him wasn't very comforting. Even when he was finally awake, he was still intubated, so he couldn't talk despite the familiar faces that hovered around him hoping for evidence that he was doing okay. They peppered him with questions, but all Dominick could do was shake his head or scrawl brief notes to communicate. Amanda was simply thankful that he had made it through the operation - and that his fresh, ten-inch chest incision was covered by gauze and his hospital gown.

Dominick remained in the hospital for the next four days, his condition gradually improving. Eventually he was sitting up, eating and walking around, although he would still need weeks of rehabilitation once he was released home. Two days before he was due to be discharged, Amanda brought Jesse in to visit him - although first the toddler insisted Sonny take her to the gift shop. She had grown to love any opportunity to spend other people's money.

Alone with her father-in-law, Amanda pulled some Pyrex containers from her purse. "I know you're sick of hospital food, so I brought you a snack," she explained. She set the food down on the table attached to the bed.

"What is it?" Dominick Sr. asked, leaning over curiously.

She popped open the tops, revealing hummus and freshly cut-up vegetables. "It's hummus."

He tilted his head. "Huh?"

"It's _hummus,_ " Amanda repeated with a laugh. "It's made of chickpeas, it's got olive oil and lemon and garlic... it's good for you. It's low fat and has a lot of protein."

Dominick looked skeptical. "How about a chicken parm sub?"

She rolled her eyes. "Just try it." She plucked a piece of celery from one of the containers and scooped up some dip. "C'mon. I bet you'll like it. Sonny eats it all the time now."

"He's a garbage disposal. He'll eat anything you put in front of him," he scoffed dismissively.

"That's not totally true, he won't eat sushi," she insisted. She waved the vegetable in front of him. "Here, just try it."

"Look how big this bag of M&M's is!" Jesse's voice preceded her from the doorway. Soon she was at Dominick's bed side, her arm straining forward to offer him some candy. "Grandpa, have some!"

"Hey! No. No way. No candy allowed," Amanda exclaimed, gently pushing Jesse's hand away. "There's _way_ too much fat and sugar in those and grandpa already has a snack."

Jesse scrunched up her nose in disapproval then shoved a handful of chocolate candies into her own mouth. "That's gross," she said thickly, eyes on the vegetables.

Ignoring her daughter, Amanda pulled out a piece of paper from her purse. "Here. I printed out your new nutrition plan," she explained proudly, sliding a document she had created across the table for Dominick to read. "Low salt, low sugar, no red meat, no full-fat dairy..."

"It's color-coded. She loves diets," Sonny mumbled sarcastically, eyebrows raised.

"No, I do not. This is serious! He _has_ to change the way he eats," she retorted self-righteously. "There _are_ other food groups besides carbs, red meat and dairy, you know. I understand that that's a struggle for a Carisi to wrap their head around, but it's true." She glanced at her watch. "Okay, we gotta get going. Audrey has the baby and Frannie needs to be let out. Bella and Tommy will be by in a couple of hours. Oh, the charge nurse told me that your aftercare planning meeting is at ten o'clock tomorrow. I texted it to everybody."

Dominick looked at Amanda, appearing awestruck. "How many cups of coffee do you drink in one day?"

"Too many," Sonny answered for his wife.

* * *

"You guys didn't have to spend the weekend here. I'm sure you've got better things to do," Sonny's mother told Amanda.

It was Friday night as she finished cleaning the kitchen after their dinner had ended hours ago. Mrs. Carisi hovered near by, looking nearly desperate to help out her daughter-in-law, although Amanda had forbidden her. While Dominick was doing well, his wife was very obviously exhausted by her husband's ordeal. Arranging his discharge from the hospital to home had been an elaborate process consisting of paperwork, medication and wound-care instructions and follow-up appointments. It was crucial that someone monitor him for signs of infection or issues with his breathing, as well as make sure he wasn't overexerting himself or eating the wrong things. For the next few weeks, his care would be a full-time job.

Amanda shrugged. "We don't," she answered simply, putting dried dishes away. "We figured you could use the extra hands right now. I know the nurse doesn't come till the end of next week and Dominick won't be in rehab till a little awhile after that."

Sonny's mother smiled as she leaned back against the counter. "Dom loves havin' the kids here. I think it really lifts his spirits."

"They love being here. Jesse is amazed by the concept of a house with more than one floor," she replied with a grin.

"Sonny told me you two started the paperwork for adoption," Mrs. Carisi mentioned curiously.

"Yeah." She swirled a towel over a wet platter thoughtfully. "We got Declan's paperwork last week."

"Are you going to change her last name?"

"I think so. Sonny's always worried about how she'd feel if her siblings had one last name and she had another."

"Siblings?" Mrs. Carisi repeated excitedly.

She froze. "Oh, no. No, I'm not pregnant," Amanda insisted quickly, eyes wide.

Mrs. Carisi's face fell with obvious disappointment. "But, you want another one, don't you?" she asked Amanda eagerly, her features bright again. "Luca is such a beautiful baby, you _have_ to have another one!"

"I've been thinking about it a lot lately and... yeah," she admitted slowly, honestly. "Yeah, I do."

* * *

After she finished cleaning, Amanda found Sonny wandering around his bedroom, Luca peeking over his shoulder with a pacifier in his mouth.

"Hey. Why's he still up?" she asked him curiously as she shut the door behind her.

"I dunno. Every time I put him down and walk away he starts cryin'," Sonny explained. "Seems happy now, though."

"Mm. He thinks you disappear," Amanda yawned as she flopped dramatically onto her back onto the bed. She stretched her arms and legs out as far as they would go in opposite directions, arching her back as she reveled in the luxurious feeling before relaxing down again. "Jesse did the same thing at this age, remember? Babies don't understand that even when something is out of their sight, it still exists." She smiled at Sonny t hrough the messy bangs that hung over her eyes. "You were the one that told me that. You e-mailed me some article about it when I complained about Jesse not sleeping through the night, after she had been doing so good for awhile."

"Oh, did I?" he asked curiously.

"Mhm." She rolled onto her side, propping herself up on her elbow. "Everything is cleaned up downstairs. Hopefully your mom can get some rest tonight."

Sonny nodded as he carefully sat on the edge of the bed. The baby was still very much awake, blue eyes wide as he nursed his pacifier. "Thanks for doin' all this, Amanda."

"All I did was clean the kitchen," Amanda insisted.

"No, you got his discharge stuff all sorted out and his diet and everything. And I don't know you finagled a visiting nurse outta the insurance company, but that was impressive," he praised her.

"I can be persuasive when I wanna be," she retorted with a smirk.

"I know. But still, thank you." Sonny set a hand atop her hip, giving it a squeeze. "I know it means a lot to my mother, too."

"I'm thinkin' us having another kid would mean more to her," Amanda quipped.

Sonny raised his eyebrows. "We still have..." He made a show out of looking at his watch. "...two months and eighteen days before you said we're allowed to have this conversation."

"I know, I know," she sighed with a roll of her eyes. "All of this has just got me thinking."

"All of what?" Glancing over at her, he gently positioned Luca so he was sitting up in his lap.

"This thing with Jesse and now your dad," she explained. She clambered up to a sitting position, legs crossed beneath her. "It's showin' me how important family is."

He nodded slowly.

"I know you've always known that. I mean, I guess I have too, just not with the same... intensity," Amanda went on. She picked at the fabric of the comforter idly, gaze on her fingers. "This is the first time I've ever had a family that like... gives just as well as it takes," she admitted sheepishly. "I know it's teaching Jesse to be a better person, to learn stuff I had to figure out on my own as an adult. Same with Luca. I dunno, it's just... to me, this feels like a privilege."

"So... you wanna try and have a baby right... now?" Sonny asked eagerly with his most charming grin, practically batting his eyelashes at her.

She punched him playfully in the arm. "Nice try."


	29. Chapter 29

**AN:** Short but sweet. :-) A bunch of other stuff is coming! Send me any requests for any scenarios you're interested in seeing, especially with the new episodes coming out (if you're like me and watching religiously) orrr maybe milestones in their relationship/family I haven't considered yet. Like I said before, the chapters will be kind of disjointed but nothing too wild, there just won't be a singular plot line holding them all together (unless I get an idea for one, of course). Thank you again for reading this nonsense!

* * *

Black Tap in SoHo was known for their massive and extravagant milkshakes. Tall glasses filled with ice cream were adorned with cake, cookies, candies or a handful of other treats. It was a child's dream beverage, which is why Amanda and Sonny took Jesse there one particularly special Sunday afternoon. It was rare the little girl got to spend time with the two of them without her brother, so she reveled in the individual attention. While Jesse was invested in getting a milkshake, Amanda and Sonny had ordered fries and beer - an ideal midday snack.

"I want the one with the cookies!" Jesse decided after her mother had read off all of the options multiple times.

"Y'sure about that? There's a cotton candy one, too," Sonny told her as he reached for the french fries that sat in the middle of the table.

Amanda glared at him; at this rate, they would be analyzing the menu until midnight.

"Both!" Jesse declared.

"No way! They're huge," Amanda chuckled.

"Cotton candy, only the pink kind," Jesse compromised haughtily.

"What if it's blue?" Sonny asked.

She rolled her eyes, wriggling in her seat next to Amanda. "Blue is for _boys._ "

"Hey! That's my favorite color and I'm not a boy," Amanda exclaimed, waving a french fry at her daughter emphatically.

Jesse reached across the table, fingers straining for Sonny's glass, sufficiently distracted by it. "Can I have some of your soda?"

"It's not soda, it's beer," he corrected her. "And, no. Not until you're at least thirty."

She pouted. "Are you thirty?"

"Somethin' like that, yeah," Sonny replied with a smirk.

"Can we bring a milkshake home for Luca?" was the almost five-year-old's next query.

"I don't think so, baby. He's too little," Amanda told her gently. She gave one of Jesse's drooping pigtails a tug to secure it against her head again. "That's very sweet of you, though."

The server, a friendly-looking college-aged girl, reappeared at their table. She smiled expectantly at Jesse. "Did ya pick one yet?" she asked.

"Um... cotton candy but, um, please, is it pink?" Jesse responded in a disjointed attempt at being polite.

"It's pink _and_ blue," the server explained.

"I'll eat the blue parts," Sonny assured Jesse quickly.

"Okay. That one," Jesse said, then added as an afterthought, "please."

"You got it," the server told her before walking away.

Amanda sipped her beer contentedly. The weeks since Dominick Sr.'s surgery had been busy, and while she was relieved that he was doing well, she was also glad it meant that she and Sonny's life could get back to something resembling normal. Even with so many other things going on, Amanda kept up on all of the necessary paperwork to move forward with the termination of Declan's parental rights. He hadn't contacted her since he had signed and sent the documents, but as long as he was compliant with her one request, they had nothing further to discuss. Occasionally Amanda wondered what he was doing in Ireland, if he was really going to stay there and never return, but the thoughts usually left her head as quickly as they arrived. She had better things to focus on these days.

Sitting taller on her knees in the booth, Jesse craned her neck, looking around the restaurant curiously. "Do they have crayons here?"

"Hm... I dunno," Sonny replied, leaning back in his seat. "I've got something else for ya, though."

"What?" she asked curiously.

Looking mischievous, he reached into his pocket and slid a small white box across the table.

"Is it my birthday?" Jesse exclaimed, grabbing for the gift.

"No, it's not your birthday," Amanda laughed. She gave Jesse a nudge. "Go 'head, open it up."

Jesse eagerly pulled the top off of the box, practically throwing it aside to get to the contents. Inside sat a necklace: a thin gold chain with three tiny gold initials hanging from the center like charms. Her eyes grew wide as she looked down at the piece of jewelry. She was always begging Amanda for hers, mesmerized by anything shiny or sparkly, and sometimes she would spend hours putting on and taking off rings, bracelets and necklaces under her mother's watchful eye. Now she had something of her own, although it was a little more than just something to play with.

Amanda shifted closer to her daughter and poked at the first gold letter. "J is for..."

"Jesse!" Jesse chirped immediately.

She pointed to the next one. "A is for..."

"A is for Anne. That's my middle name," she answered proudly.

"That's right." She indicated the last initial. "And C is for..."

Jesse scrunched her nose, looking confused as she glanced between Sonny and Amanda.

"What's daddy's last name?" Amanda asked her.

"Carisi!"

"What's my last name?"

"Yours is... yours is Carisi, too."

"How about Luca's?"

"Carisi!"

"And yours?" Amanda prodded at the 'C' charm again for emphasis.

If there had been a light bulb over Jesse's head, it would have turned on in that instant. "Carisi!"

Sonny leaned in, forearms resting on the table and hands clasped loosely together. "Remember that special piece of paper we've been talking about?" he asked Jesse.

Jesse began to pull the necklace from its confines. "The one so everyone knows you're my dad?"

"That's the one," he said with a nod. "We got it all finished yesterday."

"Cool!" Jesse exclaimed.

"I know, huh?" Sonny agreed with a grin.

"Can I wear this now?" she asked him, still tugging at the necklace in an attempt to free it. "I won't break it," she promised.

"Yeah, of course you can," he told her. "Come over here and I'll put it on ya."

Instead of getting up and walking around the table, Jesse slithered down her seat to go _under_ it instead. Any other time, Amanda would have dragged her daughter back up, but she wasn't concerned with manners at the moment. She was too happy: she was grinning so widely that her face was beginning to hurt, even as she watched Jesse clumsily crawl up into the other booth, her pigtails now lopsided and disheveled. Sonny carefully took the delicate jewelry from the box before unclasping it, Jesse wriggling eagerly beside him until he moved to put it around her neck - then she became very still, like she knew how important and special it was to be able to wear such a thing.

"Alright, let me get a look at you," Sonny urged her, gently guiding her by the shoulder to turn her around.

She turned to face him, tilted her chin up and stuck out her chest proudly to show it off.

"It looks perfect, just like it was made for you," he observed enthusiastically.

Jesse whirled around to look at Amanda, asking gleefully, "do you like it, mama?"

Elbow resting on the table, Amanda sat her chin in her palm and smiled. "I think it's the nicest thing I've ever seen."


	30. Chapter 30

Hi, friends! Thanks for all of your ideas and suggestions for stuff going forward! I'm excited to write them. For now, I posted a lil somethin' based off Wednesday's episode to get things going. It's short-ish, but the other things I have in mind for these two (four) should be longer. If you wanna check it out, this compilation is titled 'The Beginning of Everything.'


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